


Tyrions Travels

by wnelson001



Series: The Adventures of Tyrion [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Bestiality, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wnelson001/pseuds/wnelson001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The further adventures of Tyrion Lannister and the unfolding of a New Order for Westeros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedding Bells

**Author's Note:**

> Story written in conjunction with Renallie from HF

The bells tolled endlessly from atop the tower, echoing out over the vast expanse of King's Landing below, echoing across the tops of the city walls, over the fields that stretched beyond the city, across the harbor, through the slums, penetrating through the walls, into the keep...

 

Ned Stark pulled out of Cersei, and dropped, breathing hard, yet sated, into a stuffed oversized chair that languished in her rooms, and gave her a smirk as she bit her lip, watching him closely.

 

“Never knew I would enjoy the company of a Stark so very well,” she purred, pulling her silk dress down over her full, pale thighs. Ned watched as she rose smoothly to her feet, and pulled the front of her dress up from where he had yanked it in his passion, once again hiding her flawless breasts away from his eyes. Despite having had three children, Cersei was still very much a woman in her prime, her breasts full, but not sagging, her figure tight and petite, her stomach flat, her waist narrow, her hips a pleasant round, and her bottom... by the Seven, he loved that gorgeous bottom.

 

“Starks are always full of surprises, you'll find,” he said gravely, and got to his feet. “I never did get a chance to say why I had come.”

 

“I know why you came, and I didn't want to hear it then. I still don't know,” Cersei cut him off, turning away and pouring wine into two crystal goblets. She turned back around and extended one to Ned, who took it, and gave it a sip.

 

“Very well,” he said softly. “I assume... Joffrey will be crowned soon, then.”

 

She nodded, and smiled. “Yes. He shall. I imagine he will move the wedding up a bit when he does. He is ever so impatient for it.”

 

“As is Sansa,” Ned said, flushing at the memory of laying with his own daughter, and took a deep pull on the wine.

 

“Sansa is a lovely girl. She will do well here,” Cersei observed faintly. “But for now... you must excuse me, Lord Stark. I have preparations to make.”

 

Ned bowed, and backed out of the room. “Of course, Lady Cersei. Until next time.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

The wedding was a grand, huge, splendid affair, which made the crowning that happened just before pale in comparison. There was a jousting tourney, naturally, and while the knights tilted at one another, the ladies of the court gathered in their gossiping circles. And while they talked, and made eyes at some knight or another, and wondered who would be given the rose of beauty, Sansa sat at Joffrey's side as he watched, his hand holding hers properly, for the whole court to see. She had dressed in a lovely silk gown of Stark grey slashed through with Lannister crimson and Baratheon gold, adorned with a plunging neckline that let what cleavage she had show, and accented her narrow waist and flaring hips. Her hair was done in intricate braids above her temples that let her bangs hang around her cheeks, and fell in gentle waves down her back. To her side sat Joffrey's sister, Myrcella, equally as beautiful and resplendent in her emerald and chased gold gown, her hair hanging in ringlets about her youthful face and bare shoulders. Next to her sat her uncle, Tyrion, and gracing his other side, his chosen bride-to-be, Arya, of House Stark, in a simple yet elegant grey and black silk dress that accented her developing curves and flared around her hips. The group watched the tourney to its conclusion, then the melee which followed, Arya watching with envious eyes as the men danced and swung their blunted weapons at one another. Joffrey frowned, unhappy until at last there was a slip, and a knight smashed into another with the haft of his weapon, which exploded into a thousand splinters, one large piece lodging into the space between shoulder and helmet, driving deep into the man's flesh and drawing gushing blood. He grinned at that, and watched the rest with an air of anticipation. When at last it ended, and Brienne of Tarth, of all possibilities, was declared the victor, he declared her entertainment for anyone that had the courage, and left it at that.

 

When the group went into the Sept, they went in as individuals. And there, the High Septon of the faith performed the vows with somber piety, declaring Sansa to be Joffrey's wife, and Arya to be Tyrion's. And then, the feast began.

 

It was a huge, righteous event, filled with mummers, a troupe of actors, even a few bards that came to spin their tales. Tyrion drank until he felt as if he was floating, then his new wife escorted him from the feast, both of them hanging on one another and giggling madly as they disappeared into the Keep. Sansa and Joffrey soon followed, leaving Ned Stark standing near Cersei's side, overseeing the guests as they continued their revelry.

 

“Might we... slip away?” Cersei whispered to Ned, and he looked at her slyly... she lead the way around a corner, to an empty section of the gardens, and slipped to her knees before him, unbuckling his pants and fishing out his cock immediately. He groaned as she wrapped both hands around him, stroking him to get him hard, and grinned up at him as she leaned forward and licked the end of his cock before sucking him into her mouth, taking him in completely. He wasn't at full hardness yet, but her tongue working against him made him harden quickly, his cock swelling in her mouth, pushing its way down her throat as she held her place, and he groaned again, feeling the tight passage of her throat milking the head of his cock as he swelled within her. She began to bob her head rapidly, taking him out, till just the head was left in her mouth, then pushing down until he was sheathed completely in her mouth, back and forth, picking up speed. He reached down to grab her head, but she smacked his hands away, not wanting him to fuss her hair, and set her own pace, reaching between his legs to massage his sac, rolling it gently over her fingers while she worked him expertly.

 

Ned groaned and thrust his hips lightly against her, Cersei taking his full cock in again and again, licking and sucking on his length as she moved. He looked down at her, and she winked up at him and arched her back, pushing her chest up and pulling her dress down on one side to reveal a full breast to him, her nipple hard. He ached to hold it, to taste it, to suck on it as he drove his cock into her wet pussy... but he knew they didn't have the time for a full session. Her hand moved down lower, slipping into a slit in her skirt, and moving between her legs. He knew she was touching herself, rubbing her clit, fingering herself while she sucked him off, and it turned him on even more.

 

He groaned again, and gasped out a slight warning as he got closer. Cersei leaned back, sticking out her tongue and placing the head of his cock on it, gripping his shaft tightly with her other hand and jerking it rapidly. He groaned as he came, shooting his cum directly into her open mouth. She moaned as he filled her mouth and swallowed his head back into her mouth, swallowing his cum and his cock as he continued to shoot into her, straight down her throat now.

 

As he finished, she pulled back, and rose to her feet, and he watched her hand re-emerge from under her dress. As he knew, her fingers were wet. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it to his mouth, sucking her juice off of her fingers. Cersei smirked at him and leaned close as his other hand squeezed her bare breast, playing with her nipple. “Tonight, I want you to fuck me, Lord Stark,” she whispered.

 

“Ahem. Excuse the interruption, Lord Stark, but... you have a guest.” Jory stepped around the corner, carefully avoiding looking directly at the couple. Cersei smirked at him again, and slipped her fingers out of his mouth, and stepped back, tugging her dress back up into place.

 

Ned quickly tucked himself away and turned to face Jory. “Yes, who is it?”

 

“Me, Ned,” said another voice, and from behind Jory stepped Catelyn. She was smiling broadly.

 

“Cat! What are you doing here?” Ned gasped in surprise, and stepped over to greet his wife with a full hug. Oddly enough, seeing her invoked no shame whatsoever at his recent actions. A part of him, some type of conservative piece of his personality, had died when all of this had begun. It was no different now. He had assumed seeing her would bring it back, but all he really wanted to do at that moment was take her and Cersei both at the same time. To see Cat licking Cersei's bare cunt while he fucked her backside...

 

“I came for the wedding, as soon as I got your letters. I sent my own letters back, but didn't make mention that I would be coming. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

 

“A surprise indeed!” Ned smiled. “It's wonderful to see you, Cat.”

 

“Hello, Lady Stark,” Cersei said, with a kind smile on her face. She had noticed Ned's lack of shame, and wondered possibly might mean...

 

“Your Grace,” Catelyn said, and dropped into a proper curtsy.

 

“Pardon, Lady Stark, but your husband and I were about to speak about some rather important matters. If you'll excuse us, I'll have some servants show you to some quarters where you can rest a time after your journey. You must be tired.” Cersei smiled pleasantly, but Ned, glancing back at her, caught a flash of... jealousy? Possessiveness? In her eyes. Cersei was definitely not in the mood to share, at least for the time being.

 

“Of course, your Grace,” Cat said, and let Jory lead her back to the feast, while Cersei lead Ned the opposite direction, grabbing a couple servants, and sending them to do as she had said. She wanted Lord Stark to herself for the moment... she needed to forget about everything else for a moment.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Sansa giggled as Joffrey brought them back to their rooms. As of yet, the two teenagers had avoided having direct sex with one another, but had been around one another having sex with others on several separate occasions, so seeing one another nude wasn't exactly something new, but knowing that they were about to finally break that final barrier with one another to Sansa was something truly fantastic. Joffrey closed and barred his door behind the two of them, and turned to face her.

 

“You... look beautiful today,” he said, and flinched. “Sorry. That was foolish to say.”

 

“Not at all, my king,” Sansa purred, and stepped closer to him. She had to look up at him, as he was just taller than her, and that excited her. She stepped closer yet, and put her hands on his chest, feeling his muscles through his clothing, and ran them up to his shoulders, up his neck, to cup his face and pull him down to her mouth for a kiss. As their lips met, Joffrey's instincts took over, and he wrapped one arm around her, grabbing her bottom immediately, and bringing her lower body hard against his own. She squeaked in surprise into his mouth, her lips parting, and his tongue slid between them, dominating and taking her mouth, claiming it as his own. He pushed his thigh between hers, making her part her legs as much as her dress would allow, and squeezed her bottom again. He loved the way it felt under his hand, firm, yet soft, not unlike the young whores he had taken in the city with his father, but different at the same time.

 

Sansa was rather pure, compared to them. She had sex with her father, sure. And his uncle, and his father... but three men within her compared to a hundred or more left her feeling relatively untouched to his senses. She was young, nubile, firm, tight, and smelled so fresh and clean... he devoured her mouth, sucking her tongue into his own, feeding on it as he walked her backwards, to the bed. When her thighs came up against the mattress, he stopped, and with his other hand covered one of her small breasts, squeezing it and her bottom with alternating squeezes, making her moan into him again. He reached up, and pulled her neckline open, slipping his hand against her bare flesh, cupping the same breast, feeling her nipple against his palm like a small pebble, hard and begging to be sucked on. He kissed down her slender neck, and let go of her bottom to pull her dress open with both hands, pulling it down off of her shoulders, pushing it down, until it dropped to pool around her feet, leaving her standing before him in only a pair of Lannister crimson lace smallclothes and black thigh-high stockings. He growled low in his throat and pushed her over on the bed, crawling over her, starting at her navel and kissing up to her small breasts, lavishing each with attention in turn, suckling and kissing first one, then the other, making her moan and writhe under him, her fingers threaded through his hair, holding his mouth against her.

 

Impatience gripped him suddenly, and he rolled her over, pulling her hips back until her legs were off the bed, and she was laying across it on her belly. He slapped her bottom, and smiled as her bottom bounced under the slap, and did it again, making her yelp in surprise. He leaned over her back, and bit her shoulder, making her gasp and cry out slightly at the force of it. He pushed her shoulders down with both hands and pressed his groin up against her hips, grinding his cock into her bottom through his clothing. “You're my wife, now,” he whispered into her ear. “Mine to fuck whenever I want. You are mine. Say it.”

 

“I'm yours,” she said breathlessly, trying to grind her hips back against him. She could feel his cock pressing insistently into her bottom. For the first time, she wanted him to take her in every single way he ever could; in her pussy, in her ass, in her mouth... she wanted him to use her, to fuck her till she couldn't walk for an entire day. “All yours.”

 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

 

“Yes! By the Seven, yes!”

 

“Beg for it. Beg for the king's cock.”

 

“Please fuck me, my king... fuck me, fill me with that cock, make me scream, make me moan, fuck me fuck me!” she panted, and he grinned, licking her cheek and ear, and straightened up, holding her down with one hand on her back and undid his pants with the other. He laid his hard cock across her bottom and rubbed it against her silky, lace small clothes.

 

“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, reaching down between her legs, and gave her pussy a rub and a squeeze, sliding his finger along her hot, wet slit. He could feel how ready she was even through her smallclothes; she was fairly soaking the material, making it stick against her bare little slit. “Here?” he removed his hand, and rubbed his cock across her bottom again, pushing her smallclothes into the valley between her cheeks, poking his cock into them where he knew her other hole was, until he was pressed against it. “Or here?”

 

“Anywhere my king wants,” Sansa replied breathlessly.

 

He pretended to think about it a moment, returning his hand to her netherlips, rubbing his finger up and down that wet slit absentmindedly, making her moan and try to press back into him more. “I think it's only proper if I put a baby in your belly before I take you here,” he said after a long moment, and pushed his cock against her bottom again. “But I will, soon. For now..” he trailed off, and pushed her red smallclothes aside, and drove his cock fully into her wet sheath with one hard thrust, making her cry out loudly. “Say my name!” he growled, and pulled back, thrusting into her hard again, his hips slapping against her bottom, making her flesh bounce and ripple with the force of his impact.

 

“Joffrey!” she cried, clenching her hands into fists in the sheets before her face, and he truly began to fuck her, grabbing her bottom and spreading her open to watch her small, petite, bare pussy swallow his cock over and over again, driving into her hard and fast, with long, sure strokes that left her panting and moaning every time he bottomed out within her tight little passage.

 

“Say my name!” he cried again, spreading her bottom open more, and then sliding his index finger into her bottom, to the knuckle, and twisting it, finger-fucking her ass as he continued to pound her pussy.

 

“Joffrey!” she screamed out as she came, and came, her pussy contracting and clenching on his cock as he drove into her. He moaned as he felt her velvet grip become a clamp around him, and shook as he jerked his hips forward, burying himself in her as far as he could as he came, his cock erupting like a geyser within her, painting her womb with his cum as he collapsed over her back.

 

As he did so, Sansa smiled to herself. Oh... this was going to be enjoyable.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Tyrion lifted Arya into his arms, and lightly laid her upon his bed. “Alone at last,” he said, with a smile, and she tilted her head to his, offering him their first private kiss as man and wife, which he took full advantage of. He moaned as her tongue slipped between his lips and explored his mouth, curling around his own and bringing it back to her mouth, where she sucked on it, her hands delving under his clothes, loosening them so they magically fell from his body, until he was naked, and she was still clothed in her beautiful new dress. He sighed dramatically as they parted, and she smirked at him, both of her small hands wrapped around his already hard cock. It wasn't hard for the little minx to get him hard, they both knew. And her dark little eyes knew all his secrets, it seemed.

 

He pushed her back onto the bed, and then grabbed her hips, pulling her to the edge of the mattress, and pushed her dress up around her waist all within a couple of seconds. She wasn't wearing anything at all underneath, and when he pushed her legs up, bending her knees and pushing them up next to her shoulders, leaving her spread wide open, he could see her excitement first hand. He knelt down, and set to, kissing the insides of both of her thighs, teasing closer to her little sex, then switching to the other, licking and kissing his way down to the crease of her thigh, and up to the top of her hip, across her waistline, down the other crease of her thigh, to her bottom, where he teasingly bit at one cheek before turning and kissing her slit ever-so-gently, sliding his tongue along her surface, tasting the tangy pertness of her flavor on her skin, from top to bottom and back up. Then, having her hold her own legs, he reached down and with his thumbs, gently pulled her open, spreading her pussy open for him to lick. He drove his tongue into her, and made her moan, her hips buck, as he tongue-fucked her for a moment, before licking up to her small clit and sucking it into his mouth, rolling it between his lips and teasing it with his tongue and even his teeth. She gasped and moaned again, and he slid two stiffened fingers into her wet tunnel, curling them within her, finding her g-spot and rubbing it in teasing, small circles as he continued to lick and suck on her.

 

She moaned and writhed and bucked under him, and he grinned, letting her clit go and moved down to lick her bottom. She cried out as his tongue found her other hole and wriggled its way inside, and she clenched around his fingers, already getting close to an orgasm from his expert ministrations. As he licked her hole, his thumb found her clit, and pressed it down, grinding it slowly, very, very slowly, making her whine as it kept her on the edge, without providing enough stimulation for her to get off. She was so wet it was running down her cheeks, and he eagerly caught every drop that escaped her sweet little sex, each drop of her nectar bursting in flavor like the sweetest wine on his tongue as he licked it up, chased it back to its source, and licked her sex again. Then she was moaning and pushing up against him hard, and he moved his thumb harder, faster, and she screamed as she came, bucking up against his face and hand, and he gently kissed his way up her tender body, until his lips were locked on hers, and she eagerly kissed him, wrapping her slim thighs around his waist as he blindly thrust against her, his cock rubbing against her sex, her bottom, her thighs... she reached down and grasped him, brought him to her slick entrance, and he slid inside, penetrating her soft pink sex and moaning in sheer rapture as he did so.

 

Arya moaned and bit his shoulder to keep from crying out, clinging to him with arms and legs as he began to move, slow and sure strokes that brought her to a second shuddering climax within a matter of seconds. He grinned at her, stroked her hair, brushes her bangs from her face, and continued to fuck her with long, sure strokes, gentle and loving as his cock speared her over and over.

 

“Mmm, Tyrion, fuck me,” she moaned rapturously in his ear, and he obliged, slowly speeding up, bracing himself up on both arms to gain better leverage as he began to pick up force as well, his body meeting hers with a wet slap, her hips moving hard against his own, trying to take him into her body deeper, harder, and faster.

 

She closed her eyes, and lost herself in the sensations, letting Tyrion have his way with her. She was only dimly aware when he rolled them over, and pulled her dress over her head, baring her entire body. She rocked and rolled her hips on his body, climaxing again, his hard cock still a spear in her belly, and she shook and shuddered as he grabbed her hips and began to raise and lower her, his eyes locked on the joining of their bodies, her lips spread around his cock, gripping it, refusing to let it escape her entirely as he raised her up, welcoming him home as she sank down onto him.

 

When at last Tyrion came, Arya was barely even conscious from continual orgasms, and he roared as he gripped her tightly, holding her hips down onto him as his cock spurted into her pussy, filling her to the brim with his potent cum. Her last thought before she drifted asleep was that maybe, just maybe, one day she would carry his child within her.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“I don't need you anymore.” Joffrey's tone left no room for argument, and frankly, Ned was rather fed up with the boy, and lacked the desire necessary to argue against him anymore. “You were Hand of the King to my father, not to me. I will find a new Hand. You may return to Winterfel, Stark.”

 

Ned shook his head. “I don't care about the title, Your Grace. I only ask that you send men to the Wall.”

 

Joffrey smirked at Ned. “To defend against grumpkins and snarks? Very well, Lord Stark. I will send some men with you, north, to serve as an escort. From there they will head to the Wall, and serve for a time. If, after several months, they are no longer needed, I will recall them to King's Landing.”

 

Ned nodded, at last. “Thank you, Your Grace. The Night's Watch will be very appreciative.”

 

Joffrey waved his hand in dismissal. “You have a long journey ahead. Take your wife and go home.”

 

Sansa, sitting at Joffrey's side, had remained quiet, but at this, stood and stepped down to her father, and gave him a quick embrace. He held her for a long moment, then she bid him farewell, and he was gone, striding out of the room quickly. Sansa resumed her seat next to Joffrey, head held high. Since she had come here, she had done a lot of learning, and a lot of growing. It was rather exciting to her, to be out from under her father's watchful eyes. It was a new experience, a new adventure for her.

 

Joffrey glanced at her, and she gave him a radiant smile. Despite himself, he smiled back, and waved a hand, dismissing the vast majority of the court that was gathered. When they were gone, Sansa stepped over to him, and sat across his lap, leaning against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her back and grabbed her thigh, pulling her slim body to his own. She giggled slightly as she felt his cock under her bottom harden at once, pushing up against her, trying to get through all the layers of their clothing to her.

 

“Uncle,” Joffrey called. Tyrion, the only major lord left in the Hall, stepped forward, and swept a semi-formal bow.

 

“Your Grace. What can I do for you?”

 

“There are... troubling rumors that the Small Council has told me.”

 

“Rumors, Your Grace?”

 

“Yes, rumors!” Joffrey snapped. “And you're going to deal with them for me.”

 

“While I do account myself as rather intelligent, Your Grace, even the most intelligent of men must know the subject in order to hold a lively conversation. Perhaps if you could enlighten me...”

 

“The Targaryens. They're still alive. And in Pentos, if Varys is to be believed. Speak with him. Find out where, then go to Pentos, and handle this.” He waved his hand dismissively, and turned his attention to his lovely nubile wife in his arms, cupping a breast and lowering his mouth to her chest...

 

Tyrion turned away with a grimace. He was sure of only one thing: Joffrey was doing his utmost best to get those he saw as true competition out of the city. But his orders left absolutely no room for disobedience. And knowing his family as he did, he was sure that not following a direct order once given was only an invitation to trouble. He sighed, but headed out of the Hall, bumping into Varys just outside of it.

 

“Imagine that, just the man I need to see,” Tyrion said, trying to force a happy face.

 

Varys “hmm”d. “I suppose the king has set you to some task, and left the trivialities to me.”

 

“You would do well to roll a few dice, with luck like that. Yes.”

 

“I'm afraid my gambling days are well past, my little friend. Come with me.”

 

Varys lead the way to an empty chamber, and turned to face Tyrion once the door was closed and barred behind them. “Littlefinger has nearly as many whispers in this place as I do, now. Once, he was such a promising lad. I wonder what happened.”

 

“Perhaps the draw and lure of gold and cunt?” Tyrion mused, glancing about for wine, of which there was none. “You could have found a room with wine.”

 

“Wine dulls the senses. I'm sure you'll want all of yours for what you're about to hear. The Targaryen line is still whole, and has the potential to continue. There are two left in Pentos, under the care of a certain magistrate in the city. Which, I cannot be sure. He has done rather well for himself, I can tell you that much, and protects the two siblings with great prejudice. They do, of course, represent a sizable investment to the man.”

 

“Yes, yes. Gold and politics.” Tyrion waved a hand. “When I get to Pentos, I can find the man. Who am I looking for once I find this magistrate?”

 

“Two youngsters. The youngest, Daenerys Stormborn. When the Targaryens fled to Dragonstone, her mother delivered her on the night their fleet was dashed to bits in harbor, and they were thought gone forever. But Daenerys, along with her older brother Viserys, survived, and were taken in secret to Pentos. They have been in hiding ever since.”

 

“Why are they suddenly an issue now, then?”

 

“Daenerys is of an age with Sansa Stark, now our queen.” Varys's eyes sparkled as he smiled.

 

“And so, she's a young woman now...” Tyrion mused to himself. “Very well. I will go to Pentos, and find this magistrate, and find a solution to this.”

 

Varys leaned in close. “Our king would have you believe the only solution would be a knife in the night. I implore you to consider your alternatives. Look at what Stark has done with the seven kingdoms with two marriages.”

 

“Those marriages were my idea,” Tyrion said dryly. “Thanks.”

 

“Even better, then,” Varys said without missing a step. “Why end one of the oldest lines in the world? Targaryen blood is valuable... why waste it, as your brother did?” He smiled. “Think on it, Lord Lannister.”

 

Tyrion glanced up at him, and nodded. “I will. Now, if you would be so kind, send word to my niece, Myrcella, and have her come to Arya and I. We shall be setting sail before the night is dark.”

 

“Your niece, milord?”

 

“Yes. Joffrey never made mention that I couldn't bring with me who I wanted. And, given the choice, I would rather remove her from his immediate grasp. The girl is far too sweet and innocent; Sansa stands a chance with him alone, she is learning very quickly. Myrcella does not.”

 

Varys nodded. “It will be done, milord.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

Tyrion sighed as he leaned back, naked, a goblet of wine in his hand. Arya was stretched out next to him, laying on her stomach, sleeping lightly, covered only with a thin sheet. The gentle rocking of the ship around them lulled her to sleep almost constantly. But when she woke up, she was ravenous, horny and insatiable. Myrcella blushed as she met his eyes and rose from her knees on the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turning away to pull some clothing from their trunk.

 

“The captain said we would arrive by midday,” she said lightly, cocking her hip to the side as she held up a dress to see if it was one she wanted.

 

“Yes,” Tyrion mused, watching her slim, naked form, and despite the fact he had just filled her dainty little mouth with his cum, felt his cock stirring. “So?”

 

She turned to give him a small smile, and shook her head, making her golden curls bounce all around her pretty youthful face. “Uncle Tyrion, it's almost midday! You might want to get dressed.”

 

He grinned at her, but, after taking a healthy swallow of his wine, set it aside and pulled on his pants and found a shirt he shrugged into quickly. Myrcella pulled on a fresh pair of smallclothes, then stepped into her dress, pulling it up and lacing it quickly. “I'll help Arya,” Myrcella said, shooing him away from her. “If you do it, the ship will depart once more before we get either of you out of the room.”

 

“Don't pretend you're much better at resisting her than I am,” Tyrion said with a chuckle, but headed out, regardless, to check their progress. Myrcella blushed as he left, but set to waking up and getting Arya dressed.

 

Above decks, Tyrion was greeted with the sight of the harbor all around them. They were pulling in to a long dock, deckhands leaping overhead to bring the ship in. He watched for a few long moments before the captain found him, and stepped over quickly. Tyrion glanced up at him as he loomed over his shoulder. “Don't suppose you have any news about that girl I asked you about?” Tyrion said softly, watching the men work.

 

“Don't suppose you have that gold we agreed upon,” the captain replied.

 

Tyrion nodded, and fished in his pockets, pulling out a handful of crowns and slipping them into the captain's palm. “Grease for the wheels,” he said dryly.

 

The captain rubbed the coins between his fingers, and then pocketed them quickly. “Magistrate you're looking for is Illyrio. He's a wealthy, powerful man in the city. Ask anyone, they'll know where to go.” The captain started to step away, but then stopped and turned back. “I would be careful, if I were you. He's not known for his love of Lannisters.”

 

“Strange, that's something that he and I may have in common,” Tyrion said dryly, and headed back to his room to collect the girls, then they were off the boat, on the dock. He quickly had a coach come for them, and collect their trunk, then they were riding into the city. Once they were a ways into the city, the driver stopped to ask where they were bound.

 

“I have business with Magister Illyrio,” Tyrion said. “Would you mind taking us straight there? He may even see fit to room us, for a time.”

 

The driver nodded, and they set off again.

 

When next they stopped, Tyrion stepped out of the coach to a huge fat man staring at him. The fat man was lavishly dressed with an abundance of jewelry, his jowls jiggling as he stared at Tyrion. “Lord Lannister. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

 

Tyrion smiled broadly, and hopped out of the coach, giving both of his girls a hand down after him. “May we go within, good Magister? I have quite the proposition for you. Which would best be discussed over some wine, in comfort.”

 

The magister stared at him for a while, then seemingly judging him no threat by himself, beckoned him to follow, and lead the way through a gate that shut quickly behind them, and through a lovely garden. They reached a shaded table set with wine and delicacies, and Illyrio bade the three of them to sit. They all sat, and Illyrio sat heavily behind the table, leaning forward as Tyrion tapped his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Let me be perfectly blunt, Lord Lannister. You are not entirely welcome here, and I do not trust you. Please, before I call the guards and have you dealt with, explain to me why I should let you have a drop of my wine, and why I shouldn't send you back to your whore sister in pieces.”

 

Tyrion frowned for a moment. “You have the situation wrong, my dear Magister.”

 

“You were sent here by the King.”

 

“True, but I—”

 

“There are no 'buts' in this conversation, Lannister. You were sent here to deal with the Targaryen children. Your spider is not the only one with eyes and ears in other lands.”

 

Tyrion nodded again. “I see, but, I pray you will hear me out, first. I was sent here by the king, my nephew, yes. And yes, the king would most likely be glad if Daenerys and her brother met some unfortunate end. But, you see, I see opportunity here.” He leaned forward on the table, meeting Illyrio's eyes directly. “My father will never see me appointed Lord of Casterly Rock, despite the fact that it is my birthright, since my brother has sworn his life away to the Kingsguard. My sister is a recent widow, and my father will see fit to marry her to some other Lord. Hopefully one far away, out of the capital, if he has any brains that so many give him credit for. If he does not, or if he should come to some unfortunate end... then perhaps I can see her wed to someone, for the right price. A Lannister bride is a good assurance of Lannister gold. Now, this being said, my nephew is far from a great king. You know this, I know this, the sparrow on the windowsill knows it. I have no interest in being on the throne myself; it's a far too uncomfortable chair, to be honest. It would never do for me. My dear lady here is the sister of the king now by marriage, but I would see some changes come to Westeros regardless. I have assured that the greatest houses of the realm are tied all together, you see. Stark, Lannister, Baratheon, tangled together in a web of marriage and alliance for the good of the realm.”

 

“What does any of this have to do with the Targaryen children?”

 

Tyrion smiled. “Why, everything, of course. I want to purchase the girl, Daenerys, from you. I will bring her back to Casterly Rock. And there, my father will meet with a most untimely end. This will destablize the grip that my nephew has on the throne. And when his wife, my lady's sister, gets tired of his pain, his games, his attitude, everything that makes Joffrey Joffrey, she will assist me in making sure that he also comes to a sad, tragic end. Which opens the throne, you see. And who will come forth, if not the rightful heir to the seat, but Daenerys Targaryen? I plan to put her where she belongs, and hand her the strength and might of the three most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. Any who dare deny her will be crushed in battle.”

 

Illyrio frowned for a long moment. “I have gold. What else would I need from you?”

 

“A wife? A beautiful, golden wife?” Tyrion smiled. “I feel as if Cersei would do well with a trip across the narrow sea. And Pentos is so very, truly lovely. I could not care less what you do with her once you have her. Make her your whore, sell her nightly, I care not. There is no love lost between me and my family. They have overlooked me my entire life and disregarded my mind, which is my greatest strength. I will take everything from them in return.”

 

“You... have a persuasive argument,” Illyrio said softly. “You will gift me Cersei Lannister, and put a Targaryen back on the throne. But what of her brother?”

 

Tyrion waved a hand. “Targaryen men have proven woefully inadequate time and time again. Let us try the female side of the line. Let Daenerys have her chance.” He shrugged then. “I care not what happens to the boy.”

 

Illyrio nodded slowly. “Varys said he was sending a potential ally. It's why you did not meet your death immediately at my gates. I doubt even he foresaw the depth of your cunning. You have yourself an arrangement, my Lord Lannister. And a gift, of my own goodwill.” He waved a hand, and two servants carried forth a case, and flipped it open. Within, three dragon eggs sat whole and perserved. Tyrion's eyes opened wide. “Stone, now. But still valuable, for what they are. I meant to give them to Daenerys, when her brother sold her to the Dothraki. But I think I will save her from that, and gift her to you. Khal Drogo will be most upset with Viserys once he learns the lad has misplaced his own sister.” Illyrio smiled, and laughed. “The lad has quite the temper, and treats my servants poorly. What he has sown, he shall reap in return. The girl is sweet, and kindhearted. Be good to her.”

 

Tyrion nodded, unable to take his eyes off of the eggs. “I will, Magister. I swear it.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

Daenerys frowned as she brushed her long, silver hair in the mirror. She was scared. Illyrio had come to her late at night and woken her, telling her it was urgent she get up, get dressed. She was supposed to be meeting her new husband the next morn, when Viserys sold her to Khal Drogo. He had told her it was her duty, her responsibility as a Targaryen to help her brother obtain his throne. He was the rightful king, he said again and again, and ranted and raved about the usurper. She was afraid; she did not want to be sold to a horselord who would use her, fuck her, cast her aside. She wanted to stay here, or go somewhere safe, away from the assassins Viserys said were after her.

 

“Lady Daenerys?” came the soft knock at the door. It was a new voice, one she didn't know.

 

“Yes?”

 

A girl, younger than herself, peeked in through the door. “Hello, I... I am Arya,” she said, and ducked into the room. “You don't know me, yet, but you will.” The girl was dark haired, dressed well, and pretty. “I've come to fetch you. We must go, now.”

 

“Fetch me? Where are we going? Does Viserys know?”

 

Arya smiled, but there was a touch of sadness in that smile. “No, Viserys doesn't know. We're here to help you. I'll tell you everything, on the way to the harbor, I promise. A new life awaits you, free of your brother, free of the Dothraki. You're going home.”

 

“Home?”

 

“To Westeros.”

 

Daenery's heart beat madly in her chest. Could it be possible? Someone had come to take her away from this torment and save her? She stood slowly, and Arya stepped closer, taking her hand. “Come, milady. Time is short.” She let the girl lead her out of the room. Illyrio was waiting outside, and he gave her a fond embrace.

 

“Be brave, my little dragon,” he said, and stroked her cheek with his finger. “You will be the pride of your family, I know it.”

 

“Take care of Viserys. He will be mad when he sees I am not here,” Daenerys said softly.

 

Illyrio merely smiled sadly at her. “I will, my dear.”

 

And then they were gone, rushing down the path through the gardens, out of the gate, into the coach...

 

“I told you I would tell you everything, and I shall,” Arya said, and laid out the entire plan to Daenerys. Where she was going, with whom, and how she would become queen of all of Westeros.”

 

Daenery's head spun as she let it sink in, and by the time she could think straight again, she realized she was standing at the railing of the ship, watching the harbor shrink in the distance.

 

“Lady Daenerys?” she turned to see the short man, she had been told his name was Tyrion, standing behind her.

 

“Yes, milord?” she asked.

 

“I was wondering... if you would accompany me below deck. I have something I would very much like to show you. A couple things.”

 

Daenerys followed him, as he lead the way down to his cabin. Once inside, he shut and latched the door, and then pulled a case out from under the cot. “Your magister gave me this, as a gift,” he explained, and then opened it.

 

Daenerys gasped as she looked over the dragon eggs before her. “They're eggs!”

 

“Rock now, so he said. But yes, dragon eggs. Possibly the only ones left in the entire world. And they're ours.”

 

“Ours?”

 

He nodded, smiling. “As in, yours and mine. Well, they can be yours and mine, if you don't mind doing one thing for me...”

 

Daenerys took her eyes off the eggs long enough to look at him, and knew immediately what he wanted. “You want... me.”

 

Tyrion smiled at her. “Yes. But, I assure you, milady... you will enjoy it. Tho, that is not all I want.”

 

She blinked. “What do you want?”

 

“To put you on the throne. I want you to rule. Unfettered, without someone trying to guide or manipulate you. I want to protect you. I want to see what you, and only you, are capable of doing when advised by people with truly your best interests at heart. I want to be your Hand, when you become Queen, so that I can continue to do all of this for you.”

 

“How can I trust that you're not the one manipulating me?” she asked.

 

“That, my dear, you will have to trust yourself on. I can only assure you that I have your best interests at heart, and swear I will always do my best to protect and serve you.”

 

Daenerys nodded, and looked back at the eggs. “Very well. I agree, then.”

 

Tyrion smiled, and stepped up before her. “You are a very beautiful girl, Daenerys,” he said softly, and then he gently urged her to sit on the cot, and sat next to her, turning her head to his, and kissed her softly. His lips were tender, light, as they brushed her own. She had flashes of Viserys run through her mind. When he was horny, unable to find a servant girl to fuck, he had come to her, made her use her hands, her mouth, to pleasure him. He had never taken her any other way, saying that he preserved that for the man who would give him his army. Her maidenhood was precious to him.

 

She suddenly wanted to lose it very, very badly. Her mouth opened under Tyrion's, and her tongue ghosted into his mouth, gently exploring, finding his tongue, caressing it, rubbing around it, drawing it back into her own mouth. He moaned softly as her soft, warm mouth enveloped his tongue, and he pushed her dress down off of her shoulders, gently pushing it down around her waist, and breaking the kiss to admire her small, pert breasts. He cupped each one in both hands, and then leaned down, kissing each nipple tenderly, watching them harden as he lightly blew across them, flicking the nipples with the tip of his tongue, teasing them to full hardness.

 

“I want you,” he breathed, looking up into her violet eyes. “So badly. I can feel... your body...” he gently squeezed each breast, and her breathing began to quicken as she looked back into his eyes, deeply.

 

“I want you, too,” she said in a bare whisper. “Do you want me to suck your cock?”

 

“By all the gods, yes, but.. not right now, love. Tonight is yours,” he said, and kissed her again. On a whim, as he kissed her,he pulled her to the floor, and then turned her around, and bent her over the case with the dragon eggs. As he pulled up her gown, and pushed it up around her waist, he was surprised to find that she was bare underneath, and her pussy was smooth and clean, not a single hair anywhere on it. He rubbed the backs of her thighs as he lowered his mouth to her sex, sticking his tongue out and slowly licking up that smooth bare slit.

 

Daenerys gasped at the full new range of sensations that hit her. She had been turned on, before, even tried playing with herself once or twice, but never before had she imagined someone using their tongue on her there, and Tyrion's tongue, as it twisted between her lips and curled around her clit, made her head swim in a wash of arousal and her back arch, her bottom raising in the air as she literally begged him with her body to fuck her. She cried out as his tongue slid into her wet hole, moving in and out slightly, then up... her eyes went wide as he licked up the valley of her bottom, paying special attention to her hole there, that wiggling, wet, hot appendage working its way into her body once again... she mewled and moaned as he rubbed her pussy, his fingers tweaking her clit, her belly tightening as she felt as strange new precipice in emotions approaching... she wanted—no, needed!—more, and she pushed her hips back into him to try to get it.

 

“Tyrion...” she cried softly, rocking her hips against his face.

 

He kissed her bottom, and squeezed her cheek in his hand, as he straightened up behind her. She heard his pants hit the floorboards, and moaned again as she felt his cock rub between her thighs as he pushed her legs together, and bent her farther over the eggs, so they were directly beneath her pussy, nearly touching it, and then his cock was pushing between her lips, and she cried out as he began to enter her, his cock stretching her virgin tunnel, slowly spreading her open, farther and farther... until he hit a barrier within her, and he leaned low over her back, kissing her spine and neck, and whispered something that she couldn't quite make out...

 

His hips pushed forward, harder, and she cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as she felt that barrier break, with a soaring sense of elation. No longer could Viserys use that against her. No longer would he hold her hostage to his whims... she was her own person, her own...

 

Tyrion groaned loudly as he sank his cock the rest of the way into the virgin girl beneath him, and glanced down as he pulled out to see her virgin's blood dripping onto the eggs. For just a split second, he could have sworn he saw them glow, but when he blinked it was gone, and he was pushing his cock back into her amazing, tight little body, her back arching as he did so, his hands on her bottom holding her. Her spine arched beautifully, accenting little dimples in her lower back, and he moaned, beginning to move faster. He couldn't hold out very long; the Targaryen girl felt hotter than a thousand fires on his cock, so wet and and tight that she was driving him wild very quickly. She panted and moaned, and cried his name as she came under him, and it was all he could do to pull out of her on a whim, pushing his cock down and spurting his cum hot across the eggs beneath her.

 

Daenerys looked down under her to see Tyrion's cock spurting his thick, white cum across the blood-speckled eggs. She moaned, and fell to the side as he finished, and he went with her, curling into her back as she cradled the eggs to her belly absentmindedly.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Viserys glanced up at Khal Drogo, his face pale white. “I...”

 

“Spare your words,” Drogo growled in a rough variant of the common tongue. And down his arakh swept, cleaving the boy's skull clean in two.

 

Behind the Dothraki warlord, Illyrio stood with a smile on his face. Now, as long as the Lannister came through, he would have his own golden bride soon...

 

* * * * * * *

 

Tyrion woke abruptly as something sharp nipped his finger. He jerked his hand back, and heard a small hiss. He sat up, wondering if a cat had gotten into the cabin. Daenerys was sitting in the middle of the floor, naked, and around her shoulders was curled a black dragon hatchling. A second rested in her arms, peering at Tyrion with tiny, dark eyes. And the third hopped up on Tyrion's thigh, and opened it's little mouth... and sang.

 

In the cabin of the ship, dragonsong echoed for the first time in generations.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Ned rode side-by-side through the gates of Winterfel with his wife by his side. He was at once happy and resigned to be back home, back in the comforting, yet cold embrace of the North, where the sights were familiar, the faces friendly, ecstatic, even, to see their Lord back in his home, back where he belonged. Each stop along the way had been full of merriment on some level or another; each Lord had turned out their very best to welcome their leige-lord back to the North, and they had feasted and dined royally every night for the past fortnight. It was that, more than anything, that had Ned resigned to be back home. There had been an odd sort of comfort in King's Landing, where he was a novelty rather than the authoritative figure; that duty had resided solely with Robert. Until his death...

 

A pang gripped his chest again. He hated to think that Robert, the strongest of them all in their youth, was gone, and here he still was, but at the same time, being in King's Landing had released a whole lot of mental barriers that Ned had kept around his life. He had enjoyed the carnal pleasures offered to him by his own daughter, sampled the delights of the Lannister's golden queen, and on the way home... well.

 

They had not feasted solely on food. The first night, at Moat Caitlin, the Reeds had turned out to greet the Starks, and after the wine had made several rounds, he had somehow found Howland's daughter, Meera, sitting on his lap, a little green skirt hiked up around her slim, small thighs as she rubbed her tiny pussy against his cock, which had been freed from its confines, and ached to fill her young body. With Catelyn there, his first reaction—once he had logically processed what was happening—was momentary panic, but then he realized she was helping the girl, guiding her on how to put Ned's cock within her body, kissing her and soothing her as he took the girl's maidenhead. After the girl had tired from the fucking, Catelyn had eagerly taken her place atop Ned, and rode him to a wild, wet finish that had the entire keep roaring as other various couplings took place across the hall.

 

The rest of the trip had been much the same. If the lords of the keep they stayed at had a daughter, they brought her to Ned for his “lordly blessing,” no matter their age. He had taken a girl younger than Arya, and spilled his seed in several teen girls' bellies. He shuddered at the thought of how many potential bastards he had left in his wake as he fucked his way back to Winterfel. But, Catelyn had partaken in every event, and always made sure she had the last fuck, the last taste, the last impression.

 

No sooner had he arrived at Winterfel, however, that he was already making arrangements to leave once more.

  
“Can't you stay, at least a few days? Rest, and...” Catelyn trailed off, biting her lip and looking up coyly at her husband. “My body yearns for yours.”

 

Ned took a deep breath to steel his resolve. “I must be insane, for denying such an offer,” he said, and kissed her gently. “But the Night's Watch needs men. And Joffrey will not let these men stay forever, so I had best get them there as soon as possible, so they can do as much as they can while Lord Mormont has them at hand.” He kissed her again, and gave her bottom a small pinch. Catelyn may have birthed a few children, sure, but she was still willowly, graceful. Her hips wide and alluring, her stomach small and flat. Her breasts had never been overly large, and were still perky, high on her chest. She was a match, if not more so, for any Golden Lady of Lannister in Ned's eyes. “Plus, I would like to see my brother again.”

 

“Very well, milord,” Catelyn said softly. “But you hurry back to me. And, Ned...”

 

“Yes, Milady?”

 

“Do... find us a couple young girls, to join our bed, when you return.” With that, she flushed, but turned away, and Ned lead the column of men headed to the Wall northwards once again.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Catelyn sighed as she brushed her long silken hair out. Her maid was busy behind her, gathering and prepping materials for her bath. She stood, staring at her own reflection in the long mirror in her chambers, and let the gown around her drop from her shoulders. It puddled around her feet, and she delicately stepped out of it, while watching her body move. She was still attractive, she believed. Slim, with wide hips, good child-bearing hips, small breasts that defied gravity and refused to sag, pretty little red nipples, her womanhood hidden behind a dark triangle of brown hair... she frowned at that. Ned had loved and delighted in all the bare little sexes he had taken while on the way back to Winterfel. Maybe she should adjust that, fix it up for her husband... make it better.

 

She bit her lip as she cocked her head and considered, then turned to her maid. “Is it ready?”

 

“Yes, milady,” the maid said with a curtsy, respectfully lowering her eyes.

 

Catelyn frowned, and stepped to her maid, putting her finger under her chin and raising her face to look her in the eyes. “It is alright to look at me,” she said softly. “After all, you do help me bathe,” she added with a bit of a sly smile. “Tell me, when you look at me, what do you see?”

 

“Mi..milady?” the maid questioned.

 

“Do you see an ugly old woman, a woman past her prime, or do you see something... desirable?”

 

The maid's eyes flickered down over Cat's exposed body, and back up to her eyes. Her cheeks flushed hot pink. “You are very desirable, milady.”

 

Catelyn smiled. “Thank you... one more question. This,” she placed a hand over her groin, over her soft brown hair between her legs, “do you think it attractive, or unsightly?”

 

The maid blushed again, and glanced down at her, but didn't reply.

 

“It's quite all right, you can answer me honestly,” Catelyn urged.

 

“I... I prefer them bare, milady,” the maid whispered.

 

Catelyn smiled, and walked to the tub, filled with steaming water. “Excellent. You can help me remedy this then.”

 

The maid followed her over, and helped Lady Stark into the tub. Catelyn stood in the middle, with one foot propped up on the edge, while the maid quickly shaved it, then switched to the other, which the maid made quick work of that one as well. “Now, here,” Catelyn said, pointing at her pussy. The maid blushed, but spread some soothing paste over it, as she had her legs, and shaved first across the top, then down each side before carefully around her lips, then had Catelyn turn and bend, spreading her legs open so she could fully clean her of all the hair around her sex. Once she was shaved bare, Catelyn smiled at her maid, and slipped down into the tub, washing herself thoroughly. While in the water, she let her hand wander down between her smooth thighs, and feel the silken skin, now bare to the world. A slight gasp escaped her lips as she ran her fingers up and down her slit, feeling her body warm, her legs spread of their own accord.

 

“Do you fancy women?” she asked her maid, looking up at her coyly while she played with herself under the water.

 

“I do, milady,” the maid confessed with a blush. Catelyn rose out of the bath, and walked directly to her bed, perching on the edge of it, her legs spread wide. She pulled her maid inbetween her thighs, and pressed down on her shoulders, gently, encouraging her to kneel.

 

“Please me,” Catelyn whispered hoarsely.

 

The maid leaned in, and kissed her way up a wet thigh, making Catelyn's back arch, her bottom coming clear off of the bed as she moaned in anticipation as the maid's tongue flicked across the outside of her lips before gently sliding between them, nudging them apart delicately and sweeping within for a taste of the sweet nectar leaking from Catelyn's tunnel.

 

“Oh, by all the Gods, old and new,” Catelyn moaned and lay clear back, putting her legs over the maid's shoulders, using her thighs to pull her in deeper as her tongue slid up and down her freshly cleaned pussy, teasing her clit, then dropping down to slide as deep within her body as she could go, before coming back up.

 

Catelyn moaned and rolled her hips against the young maid's mouth, getting wetter by the second, and before too much longer, she was screaming and bucking as she came on her fingers as they slid into her pussy, curling and tickling within her depths. But the maid kept going, driving her to another, and then a third orgasm, until all Catelyn could see were stars before she blacked out, her mind lost in the throes of pleasure.

 

* * * * * * *

 

When Catelyn woke, it was late at night. She could hear the fire crackling in the hearth, keeping the cold out of the room. She rolled over, and pushed herself to her feet. Her thighs were sticky with her own dried cum, and she smiled faintly at the memory of her maid between her thighs. She would have to remember to return the favor in kind before too much time passed. She pulled on some clothing, draped a heavy cloak around her shoulders, and decided to go for a bit of a walk through the castle. Her children would all be asleep, she knew, so she didn't bother going to them, but instead went out, across the battlements, along the towers walkway. She wandered back down and across the main grounds, which were eerily silent and empty in the dead of night. She heard a wolf howl, and smiled, remembering all at once her children's direwolves, being kept in the godswood. She headed that way immediately, slipped through the gate, and walked in amongst the trees.

 

She walked until she came to the great white tree Ned liked to sit under and ponder, and walked up the trunk, laying a hand against it's cool bark, and closed her eyes for a long moment, thinking. She wished she could do as the legends said, and look through the trees, look and find Ned. He'd only been gone from her side a matter of hours once again, but it still felt like a lifetime. She couldn't imagine a world without him, without his steady, headstrong leadership and iron-like attitude, his stubborn jaw, the hard lines of his body, the way he took her when he was heady with lust...

 

She shivered, and turned away from the trees, opening her eyes. She glanced across the trees around her, but of course saw naught a thing. “Summer, Shaggy, you can come out,” she called lightly.

 

Summer, Bran's wolf, was the first to appear, sliding from between two trees like a wraith, but when he drew closer, he suddenly leapt up on her, and licked her face. She laughed as she struggled to stay upright with the massive wolf's weight on her shoulders. She didn't stand a chance when Shaggy joined him, also leaping up to lick her face, and down she tumbled, laughing as the wolves rolled her over, playing and nipping gently at her. She rubbed their ears and scratched their necks, and Summer licked her face again.

 

A sudden, glaring, deliciously naughty thought suddenly struck her like a bolt of lightning. She remembered Ned talking about it, once. Tyrion had told him that he had fucked Arya's wolf, and it had tamed Arya herself. That making the wolf submit had been how he had gotten Arya to submit. Well... the wolves were quite a bit larger now than they had been then, sure... but fucking a wolf...

 

She blushed as she realized her pussy was extremely wet at the mere thought of it, and she was rubbing Shaggy's stomach very close to his furred sheath. She glanced at the wolf's face, and saw him looking at her intently, and very slowly stroked down his belly, until her hands wrapped around that sheath. She could feel the intense warmth within that was his cock, and her belly tightened hard as she imagined that length piercing her body... She rolled onto her belly, and scooted forward, dipping her head under his belly, to see, to watch as she rubbed his sheath, and his cock slowly expanded, sliding out. It was longer than Ned's, and thicker, red, and hot as magma to the touch. She slowly wrapped her fingers around it, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Shaggy whined slightly, as if to ask her for more.

 

That was when she felt Summer's nose lift up the back of her cloak and gown, and push it up her long legs, and his nose dipped into the gap between her thighs. “Oh!” she exclaimed softly as his tongue came out and slid across her smooth, bare pussy, pushing her lips apart and dipping within, coaxing her own juice out of its hiding place within her body. Getting a taste of that juice, Summer wiggled his nose in deeper and licked again, and Cat obliged by spreading her legs and pushing her bottom up, giving the wolf more room to lick her. He pushed her cloak and gown up over the curve of her bottom with his nose, leaving her bare from the waist down, and licked her bottom, his tongue curling and working into her sensitive backside before worming down between her thighs, along her slit and into her wet tunnel, making her moan as she stroked Shaggy's cock.

 

_I'm fucking a wolf with my hand and letting another lick me,_ she thought to herself suddenly... _And I love every moment of it... I hope Summer fucks me with his big cock. I wonder if I can take Shaggy in my mouth..._

 

She leaned up, putting actions to thoughts, and pushed herself onto her knees and elbows, her torso slanted downwards under Shaggy's body while he held perfectly still while she massaged his hard canine cock. Summer growled lightly, licking her again, then reared up over her, wrapping his forelegs around her torso, tangling his paws in her clothing for grasp, and began pushing his hips against hers. She felt his huge cock slide across her bottom, then between her cheeks, teasing at impaling her there before sliding on past, then poking into her hip as he tried to find her entrance blindly. She reached down between her spread legs with one hand, bracing her weight on the other, and caught his cock. He stilled while she directed him to her wet pussy, placing the tip at her tunnel. He felt her heat and wetness surround the end of his cock, and thrust forward, burying himself in the tight female's body.

 

Catelyn cried out in immense pleasure as he did so, thrusting her own hips backwards as she felt her pussy stretched out by the huge cock invading her. Shaggy shifted, as if impatient, and she turned her head to the side, and sticking out her tongue, licked from the base of his cock down to the tip. He whined again, but stilled... until she put her mouth around his tip, sucking him into her mouth... his instincts took over, and he humped his hips forwards, thrusting into her mouth, down her tight throat. 

 

Catelyn could do little besides moan in helpless rapture as Summer began to pound her from behind, his canine cock slamming into her pussy over and over, his hips moving as only a dog's can, fast and hard, slamming her full of doggy cock over and over. She was so wet at the taboo, the naughty, the forbidden nature of his wild, animal fucking that her juices were running down her thighs, perched as they were in the leaves and dirt, her elbows barely able to hold her up as Shaggy began to fuck her face as well, turning his body to face his brother and putting his forelegs behind her arms, the two wolves face-to-face as they double fucked the human woman under them and made her their mating bitch.

 

Catelyn cried out around the wolf cock in her mouth as Summer slammed his hips forward, and she felt his knot, swelling, pushing at the entrance of her pussy. It wasn't until then that she realized he wasn't even all the way inside of her, part of his cock unable to penetrate into her, as he was hitting her cervix before fully seated inside of her. His knot, thankfully, wouldn't be able to penetrate into her, as she wasn't deep enough for him, but that didn't stop Summer from trying, pushing that knot against her pussy hard, making her moan and cry out around Shaggy's cock in her throat. His knot was swelling against her lips, and he humped his hips harder against her face, her teeth and lips preventing his knot from slipping into her as well.

 

For just one, strange, out of her mind moment, she imagined Shaggy forcing that cock knot into her mouth, unhinging her jaw, breaking her open, and Summer penetrating deep into her womb, slamming right through her cervix, ruining her for all time...

 

Then her eyes were rolling up in her head as she came, and came, hard and harder, crying out, her cries muffled around the cock stuffing her mouth and throat. Shaggy howled, suddenly, and she felt his cock jerking as he poured his cum straight down her throat into her stomach. Then, still cumming, he pulled his cock back, and doggy cum flooded her mouth to overflowing in less than a second, and still spurting cum, slipped free of her mouth, spurting into her face, painting her features with his thick, wolf cum, dripping down her neck, wetting the neckline of her dress, dripping down onto her breasts. She felt it run down to her hard nipples, and moaned, falling forward onto her shoulders as he pulled back and walked a short distance away, curling up and licking himself clean.

 

Summer howled, and she felt her flood with his cum, the sheer amount as he pushed his knot harder and harder against her lips flooding her womb, pushing around his cock and running down her thighs in small rivers, drenching her entirely as he finally pulled back, and went to join his brother, leaving Catelyn there, still up on her knees, laying on her shoulders, breathing hard into the cold earth under her wet face.

 

Then she heard it.. “Hodor?”

 

“Oh... by the Gods... Hodor... go...” she said weakly, but the giant man didn't hear her, lumbering closer, trying to find out what was wrong with the Lady Stark, wringing his hands before him.

 

“Hodor, hodor!” he said urgently, and knelt next to her, gently rolling her onto her back. She looked up at him weakly, leaves and wolf cum covering her face and shoulders, her legs splayed open, her pussy puffy and red, cum trailing from it, staining her thighs. He looked over her, and his eyes widened, and she recognized the spark of lust that awoke within them as they latched on her bare, exposed sex. He reached down, and slipped one of his big fingers right into her, and she moaned, her sensitive pussy clenching around the invading digit as he buried it up into her, and wiggled it about. 

 

“Oh.. Hodor... fuck me,” she said weakly, pulling her legs up, wide apart, her knees by she shoulders. Hodor didn't have to be told twice; he moved around between her legs quickly, and took his pants off. His huge cock was already hard, and easily over a foot long, and as thick as Catelyn's wrist. She eyed it with a slight tremor of fear. There was no way that beast of a cock was going to fit inside of her!

 

But Hodor merely reached down, pushed his cockhead up against her slick, cum-filled pussy, and pushed into her as far as he could with one massive thrust. “HODOR!” he bellowed, about three quarters of his cock buried into Catelyn, who cried out loudly with his massive penetration, her pussy clenching and spasming hard around that beastly cock.

 

Both of the wolves heard her cry, and came back to watch, sitting side by side, panting, watching their mating bitch get fucked yet again by the massive stableboy. Hodor pulled his cock out, till just the tip was left within her, and looked down at himself, his cock already covered and shiny with her cum, the wolf's cum, and then he was pushing into her again, as far as he could, his cockhead hammering into her already battered cervix.

 

Catelyn moaned and laid her head back in the dirt and leaves, feeling the wolf cum on her face and neck running over her skin still as Hodor slammed his massive cock into her small body over and over. By the seven, why had she never thought of this before? He filled her so completely, so utterly... she came on his cock, crying out and bucking her hips with his thrusts, cumming again and again, her mind washing out in pure bliss as Hodor just continued to pound away, panting and going “hodor, hodor, hodor” every time the head of his cock slammed into her cervix. She knew she was going to be ridiculously sore in the morning, but she didn't even care anymore. She just wanted more... and more...

 

Hodor howled, just like the wolves, and she felt his cock jerking within her battered sex, and a new explosion of warmth deep within her, his massive cock unloading a massive load of his cum deep within her. It jetted back out, mixing with her own cum, running more trails down her stained thighs, over her pert bottom, pooling underneath her...

 

The last thing she felt before passing out was Summer's tongue, lovingly licking her face clean, then Hodor's strong arms encircling her, lifting her up, and then she was asleep again.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Ned groaned as he pushed into the small hips beneath him. The answering moan was nearly too much for him to bear, and the girl rolled her hips in a way that left Ned breathless and gasping as her tight, hot little ass gripped his cock hard, keeping him buried to the hilt within her depths while she came, crying his name and rolling her hips up against him harder. He gathered her hair in his fist, and pulled her head back while pushing down on her back, making her arch and curl her back, crying out again as he thrust his cock as deep into her bottom as he possibly could before roaring his own climax, and emptying himself within her.

 

He collapsed over her back, breathing hard, and she giggled beneath him, wiggling her bottom around his cock, still embedded deep in her behind. He growled slightly in her ear. “Keep that up, and we'll end up going again,” he mock threatened, and gently pulled out of her and rolled over.

 

She pushed herself up enough to drape her shoulders across his chest, and lightly kissed him. “I'm alright with that,” she said with a little wink.

 

Ned laughed, and cupped her cheek with one hand, kissing her again. “I bet you would be. But, I have work to be done today. Can't spend it all abed with you, no matter how much I would like to.”

 

She gave him a pouty look, and whined slightly. “Will you be back tonight?”

 

He shook his head, and sat up, gently moving her off of him. She spun around his back, and stepped lightly to her feet before him. She was a stunning young girl, maybe a year older than Sansa, maybe. She was lean, and dark haired, with piercing dark eyes and small, fine features. A woman like her, as cute as she was, would never last out here. He would have to see to it she was taken back to Winterfel, where she could have a life beyond that of a Night's Watch whore. “I'm afraid not. I'm going on a ranging, this day. But, I will leave you with Jory, the captain of my personal guard. He'll be remaining here, waiting for my return in a fortnight. When I return, I'd like to take you back to Winterfel with me. You could work for my wife, and not have to whore for gold.”

 

“What if I like whoring for gold? Will I be able to suck your lordly cock at Winterfel?”

 

Ned paused... Cat had asked him to bring back a couple of young girls.... “I can see that being done. Consider it... exclusive, then. You'll take no other unless I give my consent.”

 

She smiled at him, and kissed him again, throwing her little arms around his neck and pressing her tight, young body up against his. “Be wary, for I might just fall for a generous Lord such as yourself,” she teased.

 

He smiled, and stood, gently untangling her from around him yet again, and dressed. “Remember, none other,” he reminded her, as he sent her to Jory. She nodded, promised, and was gone, her figure alluring somehow even still in her formless cheap dress. Once back at Winterfel, he would have some proper dresses sewn for her. She was a beautiful young girl, after all. Beautiful young girls deserved at the least a proper dress. Especially if they had tight little behinds, like she did...

 

He shook his head, and headed to his horse. He swung into the saddle, and headed to Castle Black on his own from Mole's Town. The men Joffrey had sent up were already at the castle, and settling in quite well, it had seemed. Most were excited to be a part of something different, and viewed the Wall as an adventure, as they weren't tied to it as the men of the Night's Watch were. Some would be accompanying the Stark brothers this day on their ranging out North of the wall, as it were, as well. He rode quickly up the road, and the gate was standing open, awaiting him. He rode into the yard, and Benjen was already there, with Jon Snow at his side. His son saw his father and smiled, urging his horse over to Ned's.

 

“Father!”

 

“Hello, Jon,” Ned said with a smile. “How's the Night's Watch treating you?”

 

“It's been... different,” Jon said, unwilling to admit how much of a challenge it had been. Originally he had boasted that it would be easy, that he was a man now and could handle it. He was, and he knew it, and wanted his father to see it and take pride in him.

 

“You look good, Jon. Strong.” Ned smiled, and patted his son's shoulder. “A fine young man of the Watch.”

 

“Ned! About time you drug your sorry ass up here,” Benjen exclaimed, hurrying over. “We're all set, and behind schedule. Let's ride!”

 

And so they did; the column of rangers rode out in pairs, twelve men in total. They were to find the missing Wildlings, all of which had disappeared as of recently. They rode all day without a single sign to indicate there was even other human life in the area, and all of the next. At night, they gathered in close around a spattering of fires, and made slight conversation. Jon and Benjen filled Ned in on what had happened on the Wall while he had been in King's Landing. Ned told Jon that both his sisters had been wed, that Sansa was now Queen of the Seven Kingdoms since Robert's passing, and that Arya had become Lady of Lannister, wed to the Lord of Casterly Rock, though he advised Jon to keep that information to himself, as Cersei was doing her best to keep the fact that her father was dead a secret for the time, afraid of what some of House Lannister's more daring rivals would do knowing Tywin was gone.

 

Ned also didn't tell Jon about the fact that he had fucked Sansa, and Cersei, and nearly every unwed girl on the King's Road on the way back to Winterfel, and that his cock, used to sex daily, sometimes more than even twice a day, ached at night, with no relief in sight. The wonderful memories of the Mole's Town girl's bottom made him ache all the more for sweet relief, but all around him were men, and more men, and only men, and Ned's stomach flopped at the thought at even a slight go with another male. It just did not appeal to his senses; although, from what he heard at night from some of the other fires, some of the other men of the Night's Watch had no such inhibitions.

 

Two days turned into four, and then into seven, with still no sign of life. They passed through empty villages, barren of all life, frozen and desolate. They saw no bodies, found no tracks.

 

“Whoever left, left without a hurry, and covered their tracks very well,” Benjen said more than once as they marched in circles to find a single sign to tell them which direction the Wildlings had went. And so on they pressed, searching for a sign, any sign.

 

Game was plenty, however, and they ate their fill every night, be it of doe or rabbit, and so during the day tempers were kept to a minimum. Frustrations flared with every village that they passed, with still not a single sign to go on.

 

“We should head towards Craster's,” one of the Rangers said.

 

Benjen shook his head. “The old fuck would likely send us in the wrong direction for the hell of it, and get a good laugh at the same time. That's assuming he even knows. The Wildlings don't think much of Craster or his wives either, much the same as us.”

 

“But he might know something, which is a damned good bit more than we do, trudging around all day with nary a bird to even point us in the right damned direction!”

 

And so the arguments started. Ned and Jon kept out of them, as did the soldiers from the south; they were more concerned with trying to keep warm this far north than where they were headed.

 

On the tenth day, they came to a mountain pass.

 

“Might be manned,” Benjen said in warning. “Best scout it out. Ned, you and I will head up the west flank. Jon, you and the southrons guard the horses.” He sent the rest of his rangers out in a fan, searching for any sign of passage, or supervision. Then he and Ned began their climb up the west face of the mountain, to drop over the top onto the pass on the eastern side. With any luck, if there were Wildlings watching it, they would be caught unaware by the men coming from above.

 

They climbed all day, and by nightfall reached the peak. They hunkered down low in the snow, and watched... and were finally rewarded. “There!” Ned whispered, pointing down. “Sheltered on the south side. Anyone looking coming up the mountain could never see that fire.”

 

“Good thing we're not coming up it then, eh?” Benjen smiled. Ned smiled back. “We'll drop in, take them by surprise. Can't let them call out, might me more nearby.”

 

Ned nodded, and the two men slipped down towards the fire. When they got close, Ned could see it was three figures, one holding a long spear, and watching down the pass, another stirring a small pot over the fire, the third asleep, a spear near to hand, a horn laying across his chest.

 

Benjen pointed at himself, then at the sleeping figure, and drew a line across his neck, then pointed at the watcher with the spear, and himself again. Then he pointed at the third, and at Ned. Ned nodded, and they slipped closer, Benjen laying on his belly and sliding behind a bush soundlessly, creeping right up the edge of the fire's light... when he got there, the figure by the fire stood and came right at Ned, walking casually, no hurry to their stride. Benjen, watching carefully, crawled over to the sleeping figure, and slit his throat.

 

Then Ned attacked the third, swinging his sword out and making the figure trip and fall backwards, landing hard on their bottom even as Benjen buried his own sword in the watcher's throat, his call coming out as a gurgle. Ned landed heavily on the third, slamming his hand down across their mouth to keep them quiet as he raised his sword.... and froze. It was a girl. He was staring into the wide eyes of a young girl, frozen in fear as the point of his sword tickled the side of her ribs.

 

“Make a sound, and I'll kill you, slowly,” Ned growled. “Do you understand?”

 

The girl nodded, and he slowly raised his hand. “You ain't no crow,” she said at once.

 

Ned nodded. “Correct, I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfel.”

 

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she made as if to spit. He clamped his hand back over her mouth, and for a moment, felt her tongue pushing against his fingers, as if to push his hand off all on its own. And just like that, his cock was hard, and he wanted to fuck this little girl.

 

“Benjen. Head up the path, make sure the rest is clear. I'll interrogate this girl, see if she knows anything. If she doesn't, she dies.”

 

Benjen nodded, and was gone into the shadows in a flash.

 

Ned waited a minute or three, then laid his sword down and stood, pulling the girl to her feet, and lashed her hands together behind her back. “You have one chance to live, girl,” he growled in her ear.

 

“What's that, oh greatness?” she asked sarcastically. He pulled the straps tight around her wrists, and was satisfied to hear a slight squeak of pain escape her lips.

 

“You satisfy me. You do it, you live. I'll even let you run back to your Wildlings if you so choose. Or, if you like it, you can stay with me. I'm tired of only being surrounded by men. I need a girl.” He pulled her back against his chest, and slid his ungloved hand, the same that had been across her mouth, beneath her coat, to feel the soft skin of her stomach. “Do you understand?”

 

“Oh, aye, you want me to fuck ya,” she said. “And if I like it, I can keep it?”

 

“Keep it?”

 

“You. If you do me well, I can keep ye?”

 

“I will keep you,” he said. “The other way around.”

 

“We'll see who does the keepin,” she said, with an audible smirk, and twisted enough in his arms to look him in the face. “Well then, get on with it. Or do I need to show you how?”

 

He growled at that, and pushed her forward to the stump she had been sitting on, and forced her to kneel before, and bend over it. He hurriedly pulled her coat open, and undid the laces holding up her breeches, and pushed them down over her hips.

 

He was rewarded with one of the best asses he had ever seen, round, firm, young, ripe... he grabbed it with both hands, giving it a nice squeeze, and she even had the grace to give a little moan as he caressed it, pushing her cheeks apart, but her thighs together, to expose the mound peeking between her full thighs. This girl was ripe and rich, well rounded with all the right curves. Ned felt his cock straining against his trousers, and it was all he could do not to just shove it into her right then, and take her up that cute little ass. He ran one hand down the valley of her bottom, until he came to the top of her feminine sex, and wiggled it between her lips. She wasn't dry, but she wasn't very wet, either, her arousal still at a rather low stage. He leaned low over her, and was surprised when he caught her scent; fresh, and clean. Herbal, like a soap.

 

“The men you were with... neither of them took you?”

 

“Varn tried... ye'll find his bones at the base of the mountain, where I threw 'im,” she said breathlessly. “Us girls, up here, we don't let just any man come along and take us, no. You have to earn it,” she explained. “You have to win it.”

 

Ned slowly pushed his finger into her tight, tight little tunnel. She felt as tight as any of the young girls he had taken on the way north. She felt tighter than even Sansa had, and she had been tiny, petite... “I'll give you this one,” he said, leaning over her back, to whisper into her ear. “After this one, you want it again, you have to earn it from me.”

 

She smirked at him, laying her head to the side. “Ye'll see about that...” she gasped as he curled his finger downwards inside of her, applying pressure directly against her g-spot, and rubbed his fingertip back and forth gently. A light moan escaped her lips, and he felt a surge of wetness around his finger as her arousal increased.

 

This had become more than it had started as. At first, he had just wanted her, to fuck her until he came in her, then he would toss her aside, broken, discarded. Now, he wanted to break her, to make her beg for it, to beg for his cock inside of her, to vow to be at his beck and call. He wanted to own her. He wanted to fuck her in every hole she had, and love every moment of it.

 

And he knew just how to get what he wanted.

 

He twisted his hand around, and massaged her clit with his thumb, pressing it gently as he continued to rub her g-spot with his fingertip. As she moaned again, he gently slid a second finger into her, and pressed it against the same sensitive area, making her hips rise as she tried to pull his fingers into her deeper.

 

“I think you like it,” he growled in her ear, and squeezed her firm, rounded bottom with his other hand. “I think you want more.”

 

“You're... insane,” she gasped, and moaned again, biting her lip as he applied pressure to her clit and ground it in a small circle with the pad of his thumb. “I never... want.... uhh...”

 

He grinned, and licked her ear, biting her earlobe gently, pulling on it slightly as he pressed his fingers deep into her slick, hot sex, straightening his fingers out and pushing in as deep as he could, then dragging them out, over her g-spot, then pushing them in, sooo slowly, slowly fucking her on his hand, making her hips quiver, and then they began to roll with his hand's thrusts, her breath coming faster as he worked her closer to an orgasm with just three fingers.

 

“Beg for my cock,” Ned growled in her ear.

 

The girl whimpered as she pushed her hips back into his hand harder. “No!”

 

“Beg for it!” he growled, and tweaked her clit, sliding his fingers out of her clenching pussy and twisting the sensitive nub with his wet fingers. She moaned loudly, and her hands reached in vain, trying to grab his wrist, move it back to her pussy...

 

“Uh... I...” she moaned as he rolled it in his fingers again, and then gave in. “Fuck me! Please, give me your hard cock, I need it in me, put it in me, fuck my little pussy!”

 

“Tell me how bad you want it,” Ned said, undoing his pants with one hand, letting his cock free, and stroking it once in his hand, getting it to full mast.

 

“Bad.. fuck my little pussy!” she wiggled her hips, and felt his cock rub over her bottom. “And my ass, fuck me! I want it, so bad.. I need it...”

 

“Do you belong to me?” he growled, rubbing the head of his cock between her cheeks, pressing it against her back entrance, even dry it gave a little, and she moaned loudly again.

 

“Ugh,” she groaned as he pulled it away, and rubbed his cock up her thigh, teasingly close to her ready and willing pussy before pulling it away. “Yes, damn ye! Yes! I belong to—”

 

She didn't get to finish, as Ned pulled back, and speared her hard with one hard thrust, slamming his hard cock into her to the hilt. She cried out in shock and pleasure, and he groaned, leaning over her, yanking the hood of her coat off her head, gathering her fiery-red hair in his fist, and pulling her back, making her arch, just like the girl from Mole's Town... she moaned hotly as he pulled his cock back and sank back into her, quick, hard, slamming his hips forward. She was so tight, her thighs pressed together, increasing the tightness of her body, but so wet, so hot... it was like putting his cock into a molten furnace, and he groaned as he pulled out and thrust into her again, making her moan like a whore, her hips pushing back into him as he slammed into her again.

 

“What's your name?” he demanded, pulling her hair back enough so she was looking up at him.

 

“Ygritte,” she moaned, as he slammed his cock into her tight tunnel again, and moaned loudly.

 

“You're mine, Ygritte. You belong to me, now, do you hear me?”

 

“Yes,” she panted, as he thrust again.

 

“Say it. Vow it.”

 

“I'm—unh!—yours,” she gasped as he pushed her chest back down, and fucked her hard and fast until she was panting her climax, her body shaking as she came hard.

 

He grinned, and pulled out of her clenching pussy, and slammed his cock right back into her—straight up that tight, wonderful looking ass of hers. She opened her mouth in a soundless scream of ecstasy mixed with pain, but he just continued fucking her, rolling his hips in and out faster and faster, bucking into her until she was crying out again with another orgasm.

 

He slammed his hips into her one last time, and felt his balls roll as he came, his cum shooting deep into her bottom. Then he sagged over her, breathing hard, and rested for a long time. When he finally straightened, he saw Benjen sitting on the other side of the fire, a knowing smirk on his face.

 

“Couldn't resist, could you?” he asked.

 

“Let's see you resist me, crow,” Ygritte said, and Ned slapped her bare ass, making her squeak in surprise.

 

“You're mine, now, don't forget. I'm holding you to that.”

 

She looked over her shoulder at him, and smiled. “You know nothing, Lord Stark. But, I'm your girl.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

The column of knights paraded through the street, escorting the coach in the center. The knights were decked out in shined and polished gleaming armor, tassels streaming from the tips of their spears, the rose of House Tyrell emblazoned on their shields and across their mounts. The couch was adorned with not only the sigils, but a vast amount of roses themselves, dangling from all four corners and woven around the windows, partly to keep the stench of the city from penetrating within, and partly as a show of wealth and power from Highgarden.

 

Margaery Tyrell had come at last to King's Landing, to enter the court on her own. She was a young girl, but her reputation had preceded her to the capitol. Many had gathered to witness her arrival, for they all wanted to see if she was as beautiful as it was said, if she was as willowy, fair, and graceful to behold as it was shouted to all the land. When the coach ground to a halt in the grounds of the Red Keep, and the door swung open, it was the Queen herself who waited in greeting, Sansa, formerly of House Stark, now a Baratheon, clothed in a grey and golden gown that swept the ground around her feet, slit high above her knees on each side to give small, teasing glimpses of her stocking-clad legs as she walked, tied securely around her thin waist with a neckline that dared show off her cleavage, dropping down to nearly her navel in a thin, long V, the sides of her small breasts bare, but covered in the front by golden panels that bore elaborate embroidery.

 

Margaery appeared from within the coach, and stepped lightly out onto the ground, her brown hair bouncing in soft ringlets on her bare shoulders. She was wearing a sapphire gown wrapped around her torso tightly, accenting her soft feminine form and slim, narrow waist with wider hips, the gown falling in wisps around her thighs to accent the sleek silk wrapped around her legs, slit up one side to her knee, revealing her pale white silk stockings as she stepped forward, dropping to a proper curtsy before Sansa, her brown eyes alight with fire and life as she looked back up to the young Queen.

 

“Your Grace, it's an honor,” Margaery said softly. “I am so pleased to meet you.”

 

“And I you,” Sansa returned with a smile. The girl was truly as beautiful as the rumors had told. She stepped forward, and pulled the girl into an embrace, gently kissing her cheek. “We welcome you, and all of House Tyrell, to King's Landing, and I look forward to speaking with you in a more... private venue.”

 

Margaery smiled, and a slight blush graced her cheeks. “Your Grace is most kind. I would love to meet with you, any time you wish. In fact, I am quite fresh and well-rested, we haven't been on the road very long this day; we stopped just outside the city last night to make a timely arrival this morn. Would you be amiss to a midday meal with me?”

 

Sansa looked her over again. She had planned on following Joffrey to one of his meetings. The king had been growing restless, in a way, and had been a little harsh on the people as of late, and she had been working to provide damage control, in a way. But this also meant that their relationship had become rather strained; Joffrey spent more of his time with his mother, doing... well. Sansa was fairly certain that he had his mother on her knees or bent over at least half the time, because when he came to her, he was hardly in any condition to even attempt to plant a baby in her belly, but Sansa wasn't too worried. There would be options, and time would present a situation in which she could rectify this situation, she was sure.

 

As well, Cersei had been near unbearable, trying to keep the secret of Tywin Lannister's death, the grief had finally sunk home, and her rage that day had been anything but pleasant to witness. It had left Sansa with a rather... foul taste in her mouth for anything Lannister for some time, and she was more than happy to have this distraction arrive in such a fashion. Now, she just had to figure out how to talk this beautiful girl out of her wispy silken dress.... she had not lain with another girl outside of her sister and Myrcella, but she knew this girl was going to be nearly impossible to resist. Her full lips were curled in a beautiful, radiant smile, and all Sansa could do was think about kissing them, making those lips part with gasps of pleasure as she licked and explored her body...

 

“Yes, that would be lovely. I'll send some servants to prepare a balcony.” She turned for a moment, shooting a look at her maid, who gave a nod and took off at once. Turning back to Margaery, she smiled. “Would you accompany me?”

 

“Of course,” Margaery said, falling in step next to her, leaving her servants to unload her belongings, and the Keep servants to direct where they would be heading. Sansa had seen to this already beforehand. The lady of House Tyrell would be within a room near to her own, in case... well. Just in case.

 

Sansa slipped her arm through Margaery's, and pulled the girl close. She smelled divine, of roses and cleanliness, sharp and beautiful all at once. “You are as beautiful as the tales say,” Sansa said softly. Their thighs gently brushed against one another as they walked. Each brush was a shot of pure electric feeling straight through Sansa's entire body. How she wanted this girl already!

 

“Thank you, Your Grace. You are also lovely... they say your aunt won the eye of the Targaryen heir himself... and that your mother was a beauty that drew eyes from all seven kingdoms. You outshine them both.”

 

Sansa blushed at the compliment, and smiled. “You are too kind,” she said, and they shared a private smile, and walked on in silence until they came at last to the balcony which the servants had hurriedly prepared for them. “Leave us, and make sure we are not bothered,” Sansa dismissed the girls, and closed the door, dropping the latch in place, and walked up the short set of stairs to the covered balcony. Margaery followed her, noting as she did how the young girl's hips swayed before her. She felt a slight tingle in her stomach at the sight...

 

Her grandmother was anything but old, or unintelligent. As soon as the weddings had become common knowledge, she had begun planting her little spies and seeds and learning everything that she could about the situation. And she knew that Joffrey would not last as a king, there was just no way that his attitude was conducive to a long, healthy life. So, Margaery had come to King's Landing, to get in good with the Queen, to try to betroth Tommen, Joffrey's younger sibling, to step into succession for the throne and ensure it's delivery.

 

But her grandmother hadn't just learned those simple facts and made this simple plan, no... she knew about the Queen's sudden shift in tastes. She knew the Queen had lain with her sister and the Princess, and her father, and that she had a craving for things of a sexual nature that her husband was not fulfilling. That her husband was too busy giving his mother his cock and seed to “ruin” Sansa; that the Stark girl herself may still have a vital role and part to play in Margaery coming into power. And that if Margaery was going to get her help, she needed to first be important to the Queen, and what better way to become important than to be someone the Queen could use to fulfill certain needs?

 

And so, Margaery Tyrell had learned from the richest, most expensive women that could be found across the land, in the arts of lovemaking and passion, in how to please another women. While her brother, Loras, had slipped his cock into the ass of every passing tight young boy he could, Margaery had spent her time between the thighs of beautiful and lovely girls and women, learning everything she could for a time in the art of making a woman cum.

 

“Your Grace, forgive me, but... I must ask you something.”

 

Sansa turned to her with a smile. “Sansa. Call me Sansa, when we are alone. I would much prefer to have a friend, someone close to me. Would you like to be my friend?”

 

Margaery smiled broadly. “I would love that.... Sansa. I had hoped you would feel the same about me, that we could be friends.”

 

Sansa stepped over to her, and drew her into an embrace, pressing tightly against the girl for a moment before pulling back slightly. They held hands between them, and Margaery smiled as she looked down at the Queen's hands in her own, then glanced up shyly at her. “Good friends?” she whispered softly.

 

Sansa's heart slammed hard in her chest. “The very best.”

 

Margaery seemed to just.... float, closer, until their lips were only inches apart. “The best of the best...” she whispered, barely above an escaping breath, and then they were kissing, lightly, their lips ghosting across each other's.

 

“Oh,” said Sansa, and then she kissed Margaery again, harder, pulling her against her, feeling her breasts press against her own, her petite, tight body mold into her own soft curves, her hands sliding down Margaery's back to cup her small, pert bottom and pull her against her even more. Margaery wrapped her arms leisurely around Sansa's neck and tilted her head to the side, her lips parting, her tongue sliding out to caress Sansa's lips, gently nudging them apart. Sansa greeted her tongue with her own, curling around it, sucking it into her mouth, giving a soft moan as she did so. Margaery's taste exploding in her senses, clean and pure and sweet, soft and lovely, gorgeous, sexy, hot... her little tongue twisted in her mouth, sliding over and under her own, making her moan again and squeeze her firm bottom again, her sex clenching at the thought of everything that they could do together.

 

One of Margaery's hands gently cupped Sansa's cheek and curled behind her ear, stroking her sensitive skin there softly as she continued to kiss the Queen thoroughly before parting with a last, teasing lick, curling her tongue up to tap her upper lip as Sansa looked at her with pure lust and desire in her eyes. “You are exquisite,” Margaery said softly. “So beautiful, so delicious. Can I... may I, do more for you?”

 

“Only if you'll allow me the same satisfaction,” Sansa said with a smile. Margaery giggled.

 

“I think such an arrangement can be made.”

 

They kissed again, more hungry and visceral than the first, Sansa's tongue now in Margaery's mouth, exploring her tender, hot, wet mouth, tasting her, feeling her silken tongue slide over her own and suckle gently on it... Sansa moaned into her mouth as Margaery's other hand slid down her neck, into the V-neck gap, and under the silk, covering one of her small breasts and finding her hard nipple, covering the breast and pressing the nipple into her palm as she gave it a soft squeeze.

 

Margaery gently manuevered Sansa backwards until the backs of her thighs struck the table that had been set with their meal. When the two broke apart, Margaery giggled as she picked up the food and set it aside, then moved one of the empty plates right behind Sansa, and helped her sit on it, sliding her hands up her thighs, pushing her dress out of her way, encouraging the young Stark girl to part her thighs, moving between them as she did so, kissing her way down her slender neck, sucking at her smooth flesh, using her lips to nudge the neck of her dress to the side, and get at her shoulder, nipping at her collarbone, her tongue flicking against her skin, her fingers questing ever higher up her thighs, finding the tops of her stockings, running over the lacey edges of the material and over the smooth, creamy skin above them, up until she felt the edge of the Queen's panties.

 

“Oh Margaery...” Sansa moaned breathlessly as Margaery's fingers very gently traced the outline of her mound through the silk between her thighs, hot and damp as it was, pressing the silk softly against the line of her sex, teasing and feather-light with the pressure across her body.

 

“Yes, my Queen?” Margaery asked with a little smirk, glancing up at her as she pulled the neck of her dress off one shoulder with her teeth, then licked down the newly bared flesh to the bare nipple standing hard and erect, ready for attention. “Do you... desire more?”

 

“Mmm... I desire you,” Sansa said softly, and softly rolled her hips forward, trying to feel her hand against her sex more. Margaery teasingly moved her fingers over her inner thigh, stroking up to the edge of her stockings and back with soft brushes.

 

“As I you, beautiful Sansa,” Margaery purred, and sucked the pert little pink nipple into her mouth, rolling it over her her tongue between her teeth, sucking on it hard, making Sansa moan and arch into it, reaching back with one hand to brace herself while with the other she grabbed her dress and pulled it up her slim thighs, baring her legs to the waist and revealing her smallclothes, a pair of black silk panties that were clinging to her damp sex as Margaery's fingers ghosted ever closer once more.

 

“We did come here for a meal,” Margaery said, her lips curling in a wicked grin as she released Sansa's breast from her mouth. “But you appear to be far more delicious than any food.” She pressed her fingers hard against her pussy then, pushing the black silk into the crease of her netherlips, rubbing up and down, firmly and insistently.

 

Sansa cried out softly, and bit her lip, her spare hand coming out to wrap around the back of Margaery's neck and pulled her down to her sex forcefully. “I need you, here.”

 

“As Your Grace wishes,” Margaery said with another little giggle, and then ran her tongue along the crease of her thigh, right along the legband of her panties, and made Sansa moan with impatience and hot arousal, before hooking her finger under the cloth and pulling it to the side, baring her smooth, clean pussy for the first time. Her lips were so small and petite... Margaery felt her mouth begin to water just looking at her royal sex. All of the training and licking different girls to master her skills had left her with quite the insatiable hunger for young, tender pussy.

 

She had a sudden thought that she was going to fit in just perfectly here...

 

Then she was sealing her lips to those before her, working her tongue deep into the Queen's sex, sliding her tongue deep into her hole, tasting her sweet, tangy juice, which began to run freely from Sansa's sex, and Margaery licked it up with pleasure, sucking her clit into her mouth, rolling it against her teeth, then moving down, licking more of her sweet juice. Sansa was so wet it began to roll down her bottom, and drip onto the plate under her. Margaery giggled at that, and licked her more, sliding her fingers easily into that soaked tunnel, tight and glorious, wet, hot as a furnace. Sansa moaned loudly above her and began to roll her hips up and down, riding her fingers and tongue as Margaery switched it up frequently, moving from sucking on her clit to long licks up and down, to tongue-fucking her tight little pussy, licking down to her bottom and prodding her other hole with her fingers and tongue, sliding a finger deep into her bottom and pressing it up against her tongue as she pushed it as deep into her pussy as she could, all the while Sansa moaned and bucked against her, gripping her hair tightly, holding her in place as her thighs rested on her shoulders, her ankles wrapped around her tightly, pulling her in as well.

 

Margaery grinned as she heard Sansa pant and moan, her breathing coming faster and faster until... she cried out loudly and jerked, falling backwards onto the table, her bottom coming clear off of the table as she pushed up into her mouth, her cum washing across Margaery's tongue, which she happily licked and sucked up, cleaning her entirely before slowly untangling herself and licking/kissing her way up Sansa's barely clothed body to kiss her mouth.

 

Sansa moaned again at tasting her own juice on Margaery's tongue as it slid into her mouth, and sucked on it, then sucked her fingers clean that had been in her body as well, before just laying prone on the table for a long moment, breathing hard.

 

Margaery stood up, and gently helped straighten her smallclothes, then pulled her dress back into place, and gave her a hand up, then picked up the plate with the small little puddle of Sansa's juices on it. “You were quite... excited,” she smiled.

 

Sansa glanced at the plate and blushed, biting her lip. “I suppose I was. You're just so beautiful, and it has been some time... tonight, if you would like, I would come to your chambers, and...”

 

“And lick me until I cried your name?” Margaery finished, then very pointedly raised the plate and licked the wetness off. “I would enjoy that ever so much.”

 

Sansa stared as Margaery's skilled pink tongue cleaned the plate, feeling her pussy clench in arousal again, already. By the Gods, where had this girl been hiding? She was the answer to all of Sansa's prayers. “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

 

“May... may I ask a favor?” Margaery said slyly.

 

“Anything!” Sansa promised quickly.

 

“I hear the Crown Prince, Joffrey's brother, Tommen, is quite a handsome lad. Would... would you mind bringing him with you?”

 

Sansa blinked. For some reason, Tommen, innocent, yet, she did have to admit, handsome, young Tommen had never once entered her mind for sexual activities... but now that Margaery had put the thought there... she wanted him as well. “Yes. I'll convince him to come as well.”

 

Margaery smiled. “Excellent!”

 

* * * * * * *

 

The sun had begun to drop low in the sky, casting golden orange tendrils up through some sparse, fluffy white clouds that dotted the sky. The hues contrasted sharply with the darkening blues of the rest of the sky, creating a blazing, beautiful sunset that Sansa was very happy to stand and observe for a long time, resting her forearms on the railing around her her private balcony overlooking a portion of the city. When at last the brilliant oranges began to surrender and fade away into the darkening skies of night, she turned away, and walked back through her room. Joffrey was once again not present. A servant had brought word that he was spending time with his mother in her own chambers instead.

 

_Fucking her, more like,_ Sansa thought somewhat bitterly. It wasn't that she was jealous; her infatuation with Joffrey had long since worn off when the new king hadcast her aside after only their first night together. The fact that he preferred his mother's cunt to her own didn't bother Sansa. What did was that he had pretty much left the rule of the kingdoms to her, to a girl from the North, new to court... 

 

One day, she would find a suitable revenge. One day.

 

“Post guards at the hallways to and from this section of the Keep. No one is to come in tonight. We all wish to be undisturbed,” she instructed the ever-present Kingsguard knight stationed within her chambers. The knight bowed, and headed off to see it done. She waited a handful of moments, then followed him out, slipping down the hallways to Tommen's room.

 

She knocked softly, and heard him call for her to enter. She slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her. Tommen was looking at her with surprise in his eyes, but then smiled and rose. “Your Grace. I... I didn't expect you, to come... here, I mean. You... you look lovely this evening. Were... are you looking for Joffrey? I mean, the king. He... he isn't here...”

 

Sansa smiled at his obvious nerves, and raised a hand. “Peace, Tommen,” she said softly. “I'm not here for Joffrey. And please, call me Sansa. We are, after all, family now.”

 

“Yes, Your... I mean, Sansa.” He paused for a moment, then sighed. “I'm not very good at this, am I?”

 

“What do you mean?” Sansa asked, slipping over to him. “Do you mind if I...?” she gestured at the seat next to him.

 

“No! I mean, yes, please, sit. I'm not very good at being 'proper' as mother calls it... she's always yelling at me to get my titles straight, to learn who this lord or that lady is...”

 

“It comes, with time,” Sansa said easily. “I can help you, if you wish.”

 

“You could? Oh, that would be marvelous. Mother isn't a very good teacher.” He scrunched up his nose, and Sansa thought it was about the cutest thing she had ever seen a Lannister do. “She's far too impatient. And recently all she cares about is Joffrey, anyway. When Uncle Tyrion left, with Myrcella... well. I had hoped he would take me with him. But I'm still here... just me...”

 

Sansa wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close. “Oh, Tommen. You're not alone. You have me. You can always come to me.”

 

“But you're the Queen now, and married to my brother...”

 

“Your brother is hardly ever in my presence and we both know it,” Sansa said smoothly. “Promise me, no matter what time it is, if you are ever in need of anything—and I do mean anything at all—you'll come to me, from now on out.” She turned his face to look her in the eye, their faces only a few inches apart. “It's very important to me that you make this promise. You are my brother now, my family, and I care for you a great deal.”

 

“You do?”

 

She smiled, and raised her face, gently pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Yes, I do,” she whispered.

 

“Can... can I talk to you.... about....” he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper to begin with.

 

“You can talk to me about anything at all, dear Tommen.”

 

He bit his lip for a moment, then, steeling his courage, he squared his shoulders visibly and straightened a bit, sliding just a bit closer to her as he did so. His thigh pressed against her own. “People... in the Keep, have been talking, about... Joffrey. And mother. They say Joffrey avoids his own bed to sleep in mother's. Have... I'm not a child, I know... about sex. I know...” he drew a deep breath. “Me and Myrcella figured out long ago that Robert Baratheon was not our father. Mother spent too much time secluded with Uncle Jaime... and well. Look at us. We're Lannisters, inside and out. Now, I don't care, really, because... if mother loves Jaime, then... that's okay, isn't it? Same with Joffrey. He's with mother because Uncle Jaime isn't here. So that's okay. But you... you're alone, right? Do... do you have anyone to love you?”

 

Sansa blinked a bit. She had had her suspiscions of course, but to hear it come straight from one of the children in question... well. It was a bit staggering. She stowed that piece of information away for later use. With Robert gone and Joffrey secure on the throne for the moment, it wouldn't do to have that coming to be public knowledge. And if she ever wanted to replace Joffrey with Tommen, well... if Joffrey's claim was invalidated, so was Tommen's. She had to make sure no one else found out about this. Then she smiled, and cupped Tommen's cheek in her hand.

 

“Sweet, dear Tommen. You worry about me, sleeping alone?”

 

“Well... a married woman should never be alone... when she has desires...”

 

Sansa giggled slightly at that. “Tommen, are you offering to help me with my desires?”

 

He blushed hotly at that, and his mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then he again visibly re-squared away his courage. “Yes. I am.”

 

Sansa couldn't help herself. She leaned over, and placed a soft kiss on his lips, chaste and sweet, lingering for a long moment. When she pulled back, Tommen's eyes opened wide. “Oh...” he whispered.

 

“I would love it if you would help me with my desires,” Sansa said in a low, husky tone. “That's actually why I came to you tonight. I have... an idea. For something... that I know you'll enjoy. Will you come with me?”

 

Tommen rose to his feet immediatley. “Of course!”

 

Sansa rose with him, and snuck a glance down his body. The poor boy was already sporting an erection, she noticed... this night was going to be pure delight. “Come with me,” she instructed, and took his hand. She lead the way back into the hallway, and to the chambers she had had Margaery take. She didn't pause to knock, but let herself and Tommen in, and closed the door behind them.

 

Night had fallen outside the Keep, and the interior was dark. A single candle flickered in the corner to the side, but it's pale glow didn't even reach the couple standing inside the doorway. Out of the dark shadows around the room, Sansa heard Margaery giggle.

 

“Hello, there,” she said softly.

 

Tommen's hand squeezed Sansa's tightly. “Who... who is that?” he asked softly.

 

“Tommen, let me introduce you to my very... very best of friends,” Sansa said, leading him forward to where she knew the bed was. As they walked forwards, another candle flared to life, this one closer, and brighter, the shield around the lantern shade pulled away and casting a warm golden glow across the bed and the girl in it, clad in a thin silken shift that clung to her every curve and accented her soft feminine form in a way that left everything and nothing to the imagination all at once.

 

Sansa slipped behind Tommen, and while he stared at Margaery, undid the clasps holding her dress in place and let it fall around her ankles, stepping out of it gingerly. She was bare underneath, clad only in white silk stockings that came to her midthigh, and not a single other stitch. Margaery met her eyes over Tommen's shoulder, and her sly, beautiful smile pulled up the corners of her mouth while her eyes sparked with desire, longing, and affection.

 

Sansa gently put her hands on Tommen's shoulders, and turned him to face her. When he saw Sansa nude, his eyes made a quick journey down her body, lingering on the smooth, bare slit between her thighs and on her small, perky breasts before coming back up to her face. “Will you lay with us? Two... poor.. lonely girls...” Sansa whispered, and ran her hands down his arms, to his hands, and brought them up, placing them on her waist, moving closer, her lips a bare inch away from his own. “Will you.. fuck me?”

 

Tommen nodded, and she kissed him again, this time urging his mouth to open, sliding her tongue along his lips and into his mouth. Tommen gasped as her tongue curled within his mouth, pulling his own up, caressing it, sliding over and under it. Margaery stepped up next to them, a hand on each of their shoulders, and leaned in. Sansa slid away from Tommen's mouth as Margaery turned him to face her. “Fuck me, too, my Prince,” she cooed, and kissed him as Sansa had, her tongue leisurely exploring his mouth. Sansa pressed her side into Margaery and wrapped her arm around the girl, rubbing her back through her thin shift. When Tommen and Margaery parted, Sansa kissed Margaery, their tongues meeting before their lips, giving Tommen a perfect, clear view of their wet, passionate kiss.

 

Margaery slipped her arm around Sansa's waist, and hugged her against her side, doing the same to Tommen on the other side. He moved one of his hands from Sansa and put it around Margaery, so that all three were standing in a triangle, hugging, kissing back and forth.

 

Sansa was the first to break out of it, moving behind Margaery and pulling her shift down quickly, leaving the beautiful brunette completely nude, and ran her hands down her arms, then up her sides to cup her breasts from behind, feeling their firm roundness, her small, erect nipples... “What would the Prince like to do?” Margaery asked, taking one of his hands and placing it just below her navel, flat against her toned and smooth belly.

 

Tommen looked at up her, breathing hard. “Can... I choose anything?”

 

“Anything,” Sansa purred, and licked Margaery's neck, slowly, up to her ear.

 

Tommen glanced down, at his hand low on Margaery's body, achingly close to that little slit between her legs, which was bare and smooth, so perfect looking that it made his entire body ache with longing. She was just as beautiful as Sansa, and her body made his cock ache whenever he looked at her... this was near torture for the young Prince. “Suck me,” he said hoarsely.

  
Both girls went to their knees before him immediately, and four hands were tugging at his clothing. In a whirlwind of motion, he was suddenly bare from the waist down, his cock erect and pointed upwards, towards the ceiling, his top undone and barely hanging from his shoulders.

 

“So big,” Margaery murmured in appreciation as her small hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke it, pumping gently, while she kissed his hip. Sansa leaned forward and kissed the other hip, and they worked towards one another until they were kissing once again, his cock rubbing against their cheeks as they tongued one another's mouths.

 

Margaery gave his hard cock a little squeeze, and then looked up into his eyes, holding his gaze as she stuck her tongue out, and gave his cock the first lick it had ever gotten, running her tongue down the side, up and down, while Sansa watched for a moment, then mimicked her movement on the opposite side. Tommen moaned loudly, feeling both hot and wet mouths move up and down his length, stimulating him quickly, driving the poor virgin boy nearly insane with pure lust as the nude girls licked and kissed his shaft.

 

Sansa turned her head, and sucked the head into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on him, making his head tilt back and a loud groan escape from his throat as she rubbed her tongue against the bottom of his cockhead.

 

Margaery continued her trail of kissing and licking, holding the base of his cock in her fist, and them moved down, under her hand and Sansa, to lick his sac, rolling his tender balls across her other hand gently, licking and kissing the sensitive skin. Sansa's lips met her hand around his cock as she moved down his length, taking as much of him into her hot little mouth as she could before pulling back, teasing the slit at the end of his cock with her tongue. Pre-cum leaked from his tip and coated her tongue, making her smile. She turned to Margaery, pulling her into a brief kiss, then let Margaery take his length into her mouth instead.

 

They alternated strokes and licks and sucks, never providing enough direct stimulation to let him cum, but keeping him on the very edge, his legs shaking as he tried to thrust his hips and bury his cock in their hot mouths as they sucked on him, making them giggle and kiss and lick him even more.

 

“Does my Prince wish to cum?” Margaery asked, grinning up at him.

 

“By the Gods, yes!” he exclaimed, grabbing her head with both hands and pulling her to his cock, burying as much of it as he could into her hot, wet mouth with a loud moan. Sansa giggled and kissed his hip, then Margaery's cheek, stroking her soft, hot skin, teasing her breasts, tweaking her nipples as she let Tommen finally have his way, holding her head still and thrusting his hips quickly, fucking her mouth like it was her pussy, moaning and hunching over her as he got closer and closer... she glanced at Sansa, and Sansa smiled, running her hands down Margaery's flat, firm belly to her pussy, rubbing the top of her wet little slit with two fingers. Margaery gasped around the cock in her mouth, which was just enough to set Tommen off, and he bucked into her, forcing his cock into her tight, velvet throat, and came, pulling her head tightly into his groin as he came and came, his cock gripped in the tight vice that was her young throat, his cum pouring straight down into her stomach. When he finally stopped, he pulled back, releasing her... and sat down hard, unable to stand right away.

 

“By the seven, that... that was...”

 

Sansa crawled over him, kissing him and rubbing her body along his. “Amazing?” she whispered in his ear, then licked it, nibbling on his earlobe. Margaery appeared on his other side, breathing hard from having his cock in her throat, horny, but otherwise smiling and rubbing her body against his other side.

 

“You're delicious, my prince,” she murmured, and he smiled, sliding an arm around her, slipping it down to cup her bare bottom and pull her groin against his side.

 

“Will my Prince still fuck me?” Sansa asked, propping herself up on all fours, and moving around, behind Margaery. “Me and my lovely friend?”

 

“Oh yes,” Tommen agreed eagerly, his cock already hardening again, watching Sansa lay behind Margaery and wrap her arms around the slim girl, one hand sliding immediately between her legs and spreading Margaery's slit open with two fingers, exposing her wet pink insides. She slid her fingers down, and then curled them upwards, pushing them deep into her pussy, and pumped them in and out rapidly, then pulled them out. They glistened wetly in the faint candlelight. Sansa laid her fingers against Tommen's lips, who eagerly stuck his tongue out to get his first taste of Margaery's sex juices. He squeezed her bottom again, and Sansa pressed her front up agaisnt his hand, and when he wiggled his fingers he could feel the heat and moisture coming from her own sex pressed against his knuckles.

 

Margaery giggled, and twisted around inbetween them, rolling over on top of Sansa, pressing her down on her back, sliding her legs between her thighs, then spreading her own, pressing her legs up and wide apart, so that Sansa's knees were up by her shoulders, legs spread wide, Margaery's legs holding them both spread open. She lowered her chest to Sansa's, their nipples rubbing together, and lowered herself into a passionate, fierce kiss.

 

When they parted, Sansa smiled up at Margaery, until she caught the intense, longing, affectionate look in the girl's eyes above her. Her smile slowly faded as the two girls gazed into one another's eyes, a sudden soul-baring moment... a moment of such intimate connection and stark reality that Sansa felt a strange new emotion welling up within her powerfully, overwhelming everything else...

 

Love.

 

She was falling in love with Margaery Tyrell, and by the look of it, the feel of it... the feeling was entirely mutual.

 

Margaery lowered her lips, and kissed Sansa again, tenderly, lovingly... their lips sealed together, and Sansa wrapped her arms around her neck, holding her tightly, her tongue slowly coming together with Margaery's and wrapping around it, sucking it into her mouth, her moan of passion echoed by her own...

 

Tommen got to his knees behind the girls, and groaned. Two perfect pussies, spread open just for him. He took a good, long look, memorizing every detail of this, the way the girls' bodies pressed together, how Sansa's netherlips were just ever-so-slightly parted, a trail of wetness leaking down over the curve of her bottom from her pink little tunnel, Margaery's clean, wet slit, her bottom raising above it, the little glimpses he got of her back entrance between her firm, full cheeks... he bit his lip and moved up behind them, taking his cock in his hand, and gently pushed Margaery forward just enough to line his cock up with Sansa's sex below her own, and shoved into her all at once, burying his cock into her wet, silken heat, moaning as he lost his virginity forever in her heavenly pussy.

 

Sansa moaned loudly into Margaery's mouth, the beautiful girl above her kissing her harder as she felt Tommen's hands on her hips, pressing her down into the Queen, felt his hips pressed up against both of theirs, his cock buried into the girl beneath her. She shivered in anticipation as he began to move, sliding his cock out, to shove it back into her, making Sansa cry out again, clinging harder to Margaery as her pussy stretched around his considerable girth. For such a young man, Tommen was very well endowed, and it showed in the way Sansa reacted to his penetration. Margaery licked and sucked her neck, adding to the stimulation, moving a hand between their chests to tweak a nipple, and sucked harder on her collarbone, leaving a lovemark.

 

Tommen groaned, feeling her pussy ripple and spasm around him as he slid into her, gripping and sucking at him as he pulled back, as if unwilling to let him go. He shoved into her again, slowly beginning to pick up speed, thrusting his hips faster while he stared down at Margaery's spread open sex, just waiting for his cock to settle in her little tunnel as well.

 

“Oh Gods!!” Sansa cried loudly, and she came, her entire body spasming and jerking as her orgasm crashed over her as Tommen slammed his cock into her hard, unable to even try to control himself as he bucked into her overwhelming tight, gripping heat. She moaned and rolled her hips under both of them as he slammed into her a few more times, making her cum again, her hands squeezing Margaery's body to her own, her mouth devouring the brunette's.

 

Tommen watched in fascination, and summoning the last remnants of his self control, finally pulled out of her, grabbing his cock. It was wet and slippery with her pussy juice and cum, and he could see a small little wet spot forming beneath her rounded bottom on the floor, but... he had to have Margaery as well. He leaned low over her back, kissing up her spine, and pressed the head of his cock against the cleft of her sex, and pushed, his cock, slippery as it was, pushed her lips apart, and sank slowly into her.

 

Margaery let out a long, slow moan as Tommen slowly sank into her from behind, his cock driving into her at a different angle, and stretching her tight little tunnel open. She had had sex before, it had been part of her learning and training to come to King's Landing. Hers, and Loras's. Loras hadn't succeeded, however, and had to stay behind... for now. He was unable to stay hard, unable to get a girl off. Even after successfully penetrating Margaery, in order to continue, he had had to roll her over, and take her bottom instead, in order to finish. It had been his one, and to this point, only failure. But he would improve, her grandmother had said.. and then he would come back.

 

Tommen had no such reservations, and bit her shoulder as her insanely tight pussy gripped his cock like a glove, milking him as he slowly pushed into her until his hips rested on the shapely curves of her bottom. He reached down and grabbed her cheek to support himself, and began to drive his cock in and out of her, quick and hard, panting and moaning as he pushed himself to fuck this little beauty as hard as he could.

 

Sansa, beneath both of them, rolled her hands across Margaery's breasts and returned every favor Margaery had given her, kissing, licking, and sucking at any part of her she could reach while Margaery's body rocked into her own with the force of Tommen's frantic thrusts, which were increasing in rapidity and force. He panted and moaned, squeezing her bottom again, and Margaery cried out as she began to orgasm, her pussy clenching and getting even tighter. Sansa pulled her into a fierce kiss as she did, and her body shook and quivered, her legs shaking as Tommen slammed into her wet heat again and again, then cried out as he pushed as deep within her as he possibly could and unloaded into her tight cunt, his cum filling her completely and overflowing out over his cock and Sansa's pussy beneath them. He collapsed over her back, and all three laid tangled in limbs, breathing hard and panting, Sansa actually enjoying the weight of her two new-found lovers on her. She gently smoothed Margaery's hair and caressed her body while they cooled down, enjoying the feel of her smooth, satin skin under her fingertips.

 

When at last Tommen rolled off, he staggered to his feet and dropped into a nearby chair. Neither of the girls moved, Sansa holding Margaery to her tightly. Her tongue gently traced the contours of her ear when she heard Margaery whisper the most meaningful words she had ever heard in her ear... “I love you, Sansa Stark... and you... you are now mine.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued in part 3 of The Adventures of Tyrion - "Lord Tyrion"


End file.
